


fade like magazines.

by maddy_writes



Category: IT (1990), IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Eddie, Adult Richie, Canon Compliant, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Maggie and Wentworth aren't bad parents and I reject that fanon, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Repressed Memories, check authors notes for additional warnings, it's a gayer version of canon tbh, mentions of rape/non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 82,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13908942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddy_writes/pseuds/maddy_writes
Summary: The man looked up, and for the first time Richie saw his face and realized the man was about his age, but he looked older. He was tired, and there was a distinct unhappiness in his face. There was also somethingso familiarabout him, but Richie couldn’t quite place it. He was going to piss him off, he was sure of it.The man brushed his wet hair off of his forehead, and took off his glasses, attempting to clean off the raindrops with his damp jacket, but it didn’t help at all. “Do you have the new Keith Urban album? Or, I think it’s his new one… the one with his cover of Romeo’s Tune?”“Yeah.” Richie confirmed, and now looking at this guy… Something was clicking. Something frustrating and fuzzy in the back of his mind that was screamingYou know him!





	1. step one: meet for the second time.

**July 14th, 1993 - Richie Toziers House - Derry, Maine.**

 

“So do you think Tori Spelling or Jennie Garth would date me?” The question posed by Richie was met with an uproar of laughter from his remaining friends. Remaining, because the numbers of the Losers Club had slowly dwindled over the years. 

It started with Beverly Marsh, that very summer. She was the first to go when she moved out to Portland. At first, she was great at keeping in touch - with regular phone calls and letters sent out and even once meeting them halfway in Bangor for a day out together. The group had been convinced that they would be able to stick together like glue no matter how far apart they moved, because surely fighting an Eldritch monster in the towns sewer system embedded a bond that couldn’t be broken. However, as the weeks past the letters and phone calls began to fade. The last time any of them had heard from her had been in October that year, when Bill called and she seemed to have no idea who he was. 

No one tried to call after that. 

It was a few months later in April of 1990 where Ben Hanscom also moved out of Derry. His mother had gotten a job transfer out back to his home state of Tennessee. They knew it would be the last time they’d see him again, but the remaining five Losers held out on the hope that Ben would keep in touch. And like Beverly, he did. The phone calls and letters were frequent, and even accompanied by plenty of photos. It had been Mike who was last to call him, and Ben, not knowing who he was, hung up on him. Like with Beverly, none of them tried again. 

After it happening to Ben too, Bill had come to the conclusion that it was something to do with the curse on Derry. 

“It doesn’t w-want us to come back,” He explained quietly. The group was hushed and crowded together in the Uris family living room. The clock read 3:26am, and the house was dark. The only light coming from Richie lighting up a cigarette. Stan scowled, but said nothing. “It’s making us forget s-so we won’t come back… If we all end up leaving…” The worry in his voice was palpable. 

“I won’t.” Mike spoke up, and all the heads turned to him. “There’s… I’m not getting out of Derry. My family is established here, not like you guys… If someone has to stay… It’ll be me.” It was a burden, and all of them knew that. 

“Are you sure?” Eddie was the first to speak. He found himself looking towards Bill, instead of Mike, but Bill’s jaw was set and a firm gaze locked on Mike. His chin dipped, just a little, only seeming to be noticed by Mike and Eddie. 

“I’m sure.” Mike answered. 

And he would be the last to stay. It was nearly exactly one year after that when the Denbrough family packed up. Bill said he’d call, but he never did. Eddie had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to prolong the inevitable and make it harder on all of them. Perhaps he would’ve called if he remembered, but the call never came, and two years later Eddie, Stan, and Mike were sitting up in Richie’s room as he mused about his move out to Beverly Hills the following morning. He seemed excited about it, but all of them knew it was only on the surface. He didn’t want to forget. 

“Neither Jennie or Tori would waste their time on a dumbass like you,” Stan quipped back, and Richie gasped in surprise. 

“How dare you, Stanley Uris! I am an absolute catch!” 

“Or really now?” 

“Yes, sir. Yes indeed-” The Voice, inspired by Alfred Pennyworth of the Batman Comics was the one that Richie had decided to prove it. “I am smart, I am hilarious, I am dashingly handsome - isn’t that right, Eds?” His arm looped around Eddie’s shoulders and his other hand ruffled the perfectly styled hair on his head. 

“Fuck off!” Eddie was _nearly_ laughing as he pushed Richie away from him. “You’re fucking annoying is what you are. And don’t call me Eds!” 

“Annoying, Handsome. Disruptive, Sexy. Trashmouth, Incredibly talented kisser - they’re all the same in my head, you see. You would know for _sure_ about that last one, Eddie.” Richie had dropped the voice, but grinned proudly. His eyes bright behind the coke bottle lenses that he still wore, even if they had become a little bit too small for his face at the sides. They were part of his signature look, and he had grown to like them over the years. 

“I guess you need to get your head checked, in that case.” Mike muttered, and Richie howled with laughter. 

“Yowza, Homeschool! You got me good!” Richie gave him an appreciative clap on the back, leaning back on his hands after, before bursting out in song to sing-along with the radio. _”I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign! No one’s gonna drag you up, to get into the light where you belong! But where do you belong?”_ He hopped up onto his feet, giving a dramatic spin. That was one thing that Richie Tozier was always good for - giving a performance. He was always in his element whenever he got to show off. Wiggling his hips, he continued along with Ace of Base on the radio. _”I, under the pale moon, for so many years I’ve wondered who you are. How could a person, like you, bring me joy?”_ By then, his attention was fully on Eddie, a hand extended towards him. He was singing directly towards him, with a dopey grin on his face, and Eddie just laughed and shook his head. 

_”Under the pale moon, where I see-_ HEY!” His performance was halted by a pillow hitting him in the head, skewing his glasses and distracting him from song. He turned to the source, a rather smug looking Stan. “Excuse me, I was in the middle of serenading my love,” Richie turned up his nose. 

“Oh well thank God I stopped you then.” 

Richie had opened his mouth to make an argument, clearly having _something_ to say on the matter but he was stopped when his mother knocked on the door and poked her head in. Maggie Tozier, despite knowing that all of Richie’s things were packed away in the moving truck already a day ahead of them on it’s way to Beverly Hills, was surprised to see her sons room so tidy. All he had was a few pairs of clothes (which he didn’t even put into his bag), the sleeping bag on the floor, a pillow, and the battery powered radio which was the source of music for the boys. 

“Your mother’s here,” She told Stanley. Obediently, he stood. Maggie left the room and shut the door behind her. 

It was a strange moment between Stan and Richie. The reality of Richie being the next to go, and the next to forget was suddenly too real for all of them. Mike and Eddie were silent, watching the two from where they sat on the ground. Surprisingly, it was Stan who moved first. He embraced Richie so tightly he teetered backwards, nearly falling over with the sheer force of Stan’s hug. But he didn’t complain. He was just as eager in returning it and they leaned on each other. 

“I’ll miss you, Staniel.” 

“No you won’t, Trashmouth.” 

For the first time in his life, Richie didn’t argue. 

The pair clung onto each other for what must’ve been at least a few minutes longer, as the song had changed from Ace of Base and was halfway through some Cyndi Lauper song, but no one was listening anymore. All four boys had gotten teary-eyed and fallen into a heavy silence. They were all scared to break the moment, and they all flinched when Andrea Uris shouted for her son from the living room below. 

Stan parted from Richie’s side, giving him a final pat on the shoulder, before heading from the room. He didn’t say his goodbyes to Mike or Eddie, and neither were offended. 

Richie wouldn’t let the atmosphere stay emotionally tense for long. He watched the door for a few moments after Stan left, and then headed over to the window, to wave at him as he got into his mother’s car and drove off. He wiped his eyes, before turning back to them both. “Do you guys think I can do a cartwheel?” 

“No.” Eddie and Mike said at once. 

“Challenge accepted!” 

He didn’t do the cartwheel. He sure attempted to do one, and got about half way into the air before he crumbled in on himself. “Fuck, no I can do this! I swear guys, I can do this.” Richie insisted, and made another futile attempt, falling onto his ass and almost rolling into a somersault. 

“Richie, stop, you’re going to get yourself killed.” 

“No I won’t! I can only die with honor, Edward.” A third attempt was made, which looked like it could be successful, but he didn’t have enough momentum and ended up in handstand for about two seconds, (Eddie’s eyes unfortunately stuck on the dark patch of hair on his stomach, trailing from his belly button down into his pants as his shirt had slid down) before falling over. 

“Alright. Guess I can’t do a cartwheel.”

“And this surprises no one.” Mike remarked with a grin towards him. But then, his eyes flickered to the window and the sun setting outside. “I guess I should get going… It’s a pretty long bike ride back home.” 

Richie nodded, and without a word, he stepped into Mike, embracing him just as he did with Stan. They didn’t speak, as there was nothing that they needed to say to each other. There was nothing that they could say that would take away the reality of this all. Eddie looked away, and gave them their time together. He picked at the carpet, he distracted himself by listening to the radio (Which was now playing George Michael) and only looked up when he heard the sound of Richie’s door closing. And then it was just them. 

“Do you have to-” 

“I can stay a little longer.” 

Eddie had answered his question before Richie could finish asking it, and immediately Richie dropped down onto the floor, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and pressing his face into his shirt. This sort of affection from Richie had been strange at first. Before they were dating. A fact that they mostly kept under wraps from their friends. It’s not that they were _hiding it_ exactly, but they never explicitly told anyone. And none of the Losers really picked up on it either. And why would they? Richie had always been touchy and flirty, and Eddie would always playfully shut him down. It was like nothing changed, except every little touch meant worlds more to them than it had before. Automatically, Eddie’s fingers brushed through Richie’s hair, smoothing it out and lightly detangling knots. They were both quiet, Eddie playing with his hair and Richie holding him tight. Eddie hadn’t even realized Richie was crying until he felt the dampness in his shirt. 

Richie never cried, and so far, Eddie had seen him do that twice in one day. It squeezed his heart tightly, and Eddie felt like he might choke. “Please don’t forget me,” Eddie said, breaking the silence between them. 

“I won’t.” Richie’s voice was muffled behind his tears and Eddie’s stomach. 

“Liar,” Came Eddie’s immediate response. And both of them hated the way that he sounded. Both of them hated that it was true. 

“I can’t forget you, Eds,” Eddie wrinkled his nose at the nickname, but didn’t correct him this time. “How on Earth could I forget you? Your dumb face, that ridiculous way you style your hair, your stupid fanny pack, those…. Those tiny shorts you wear. How the hell could a guy forget someone like you, Eddie Spaghetti?” 

“It won’t be your fault,” Was all Eddie could tell him to try and assure him. It would hurt, sure, losing Richie like that. But Eddie couldn’t blame him. Just as he hadn’t blamed Bill, Ben, or Bev before him. This was all beyond their control, and it seemed to be a part of process of them all growing up and growing away from each other. 

“I’ll try,” Richie decided, sitting up and blinking tears out of his red and puffy eyes. “I’ll try not to forget you.” 

“As if the others didn’t,” Eddie didn’t mean for his words to come off as harsh, and even Richie seemed to recoil at the striking reality that Eddie brought down on him. Richie didn’t like to think that way. He didn’t like to believe that there was anything in this world that was beyond his control; he was invincible, and he could do anything that he set his mind to… Except a cartwheel. 

“I’ll remember.” Richie told him firmly this time. There was a fire in his eye and a determination in his word. “Whatever it fucking takes, Eddie. Even if I have to tattoo your name on the back of my hand, I’ll do it if it means I never have to forget you.” 

“Okay.” 

Eddie was out of arguments after that. He always admired Richie’s optimism, and the way he could always make everyone laugh. A beat of silence passed between them, then the song on the radio changed. A dopey grin, mirroring the one from Richie’s performance of Ace of Base, came up onto his face. Immediately, he turned up the radio as loud as he could. Eddie knew the song too, and he had to laugh. 

Before he knew it, Richie was pulling him up onto his feet, holding both of his hands and pulling and pushing him around in a circle, leading him in a sort of clumsy dance, that Eddie was doing his best to keep up with - but Richie was like a firecracker, moving and swaying in all sorts of different directions and Eddie couldn’t even try to predict what he was going to do next. 

_Meet me in the middle of the day_  
_Let me hear you say everything’s okay_  
_Bring me southern kisses from your room_  
_Meet me in the middle of the night_  
_Let me hear you say everything’s alright_  
_Let me smell the moon in your perfume_

As the lyrical voice of Steve Forbert found itself filling the room, both boys sang along proudly. A hard change from the emotions of the previous moment, but it was light, it was fun, and they were both laughing and dancing together. If you could even call holding onto each other and jumping in awkward circles dancing. But they were having fun. 

_It's king and queen and we must go down now beyond the chandelier_  
_Where I won't have to speak my mind and you won't have to hear_  
_Shreds of news and afterthoughts and complicated scenes_  
_We'll huddle down behind the light and fade like magazines_

The chorus then repeated out three times, and they both slowly stopped singing. Standing together, holding each others hands tightly. The music played loudly, and switched to another song - but Eddie and Richie stayed perfectly still. Eddie trying to commit each of Richie’s freckles to memory, the curve of his nose from where it had been broken, the lines that formed on his face when he smiled, the shape of his jaw, the specks of gold in the iris’ of his eyes. 

And Richie was doing the same; remembering the exact colour of Eddie’s skin, the curls in his hair, the line of his cheek bones and the way his mouth slightly dropped open while he was deep in thought. 

For the last time - Richie kissed him.

Songs faded in and out of each other, and eventually, Eddie parted from the moment. The sun was down, and his mother was likely to freak out when he finally pedaled home. He didn’t hug Richie. He didn’t touch him again, merely wishing him a goodbye, and requesting a phone call soon. Richie promised that he wouldn’t forget - he wouldn’t forget Eddie, and he wouldn’t forget the phone call. 

But he did.

* * *

**September 19th, 2003 - Richie’s Records - New York City, New York**

Richie Tozier had become a household name seemingly overnight. Starting in 1999 when the twenty-three year old comedian took to the Comedy Central stage and became an instant hit! He toured across the country in 2000, made trips into Canada and Europe by 2001, and by 2003 his career had plateaued. 

It had been a whirlwind of a few years for Richie, most of which he didn’t remember purely out of exhaustion and the occasional usage of various drugs. One thing he would never forget, however, was his sensationalized disaster of a marriage. 

Isabelle Tozier, or going by her maiden name, Lyon, had been a perfectly nice woman. They had met in college, UCLA, and both were in the dramatic arts program. She was very theatrical, and had a knack for Shakespearean classics. Isabelle could rattle off sonnets and soliloquies like no one else could, and Richie admired her for that. But more than that, she was funny. Humor, to Richie, was always the most important trait and from the very first moment that she had made him laugh, he was smitten. Naturally, they dated all through college and Isabelle became many of Richie’s ‘firsts’. His first serious girlfriend, his first love, his first time, his first marriage, and his first divorce. 

Richie hadn’t thought about marriage until Isabelle had brought it up, just before he was about to go on his first cross-country tour. She wanted to get married, something about _wanting commitment before he went running off all over the world._ To which, Richie willingly agreed. Three weeks later, and they were married in the Town Hall and looking forward to starting their lives together. Or so, Richie had assumed. 

As it turned out, he was more committed to the marriage than Isabelle Tozier ever was. He had called his wife every night, he had worn his ring, he had made jokes and told stories about the love of his life across the nation and thought that everything was going to play out like some perfect love story. But like most Hollywood couples, their love crumbled in the tabloids. 

It started with stories that Isabelle avidly denied in the most convincing fashion. (“That’s just my personal trainer, Richie. He comes over so we don’t get hounded at the gym. You’re doing great, baby, I love you.”) But as the rumors only spread, Richie’s desire to know the truth grew stronger. He wanted to believe Isabelle, he _did_ believe Isabelle. Which is why he wasn’t proud of what he did, even if he _was_ thankful. He hired a private investigator. 

Alexander had been a nice guy, he had been upfront with Richie that if he already suspected cheating, that was likely already the case. Richie affirmed he was sure that Isabelle was faithful to him, he just wanted to put the rumors to bed, and at the time, he was convinced that was all this was. But one week later, he had gotten an email from Alexander with six photos attached. Isabelle had been seeing a personal trainer alright, but it didn’t seem like he was training her in fitness by any means. The next week, he returned home and filed for divorce. 

The divorce settlement had been one of the worst times of his life, and as Richie tried to push his career and flourish, the whole thing dragged him down. He found himself less interested in comedy, and really only kept up his shows to pay his fees and pay out his settlement to Isabelle. Somehow, she had managed to swindle him out of most of his money and his possessions, as well as a healthy dose of alimony. But he didn’t care anymore; he just wanted out. 

The divorce was officially finalized on January 12th, 2003 and with that, Richie packed up and moved out of L.A, about as far away from California as he could. He settled himself down in New York City, in an apartment above an empty shop he had purchased with a good portion of the money that he had left. Now free of his marriage and taking an official break from his comedy career (although it was against the wishes of his agent, who insisted that he was wasting his potential) Richie decided to do something that was more up his alley, something that could really care about - he opened up a record shop. 

Given, that wasn’t the best choice in 2003. So, he resigned himself to not selling just vinyls and included an inventory of mostly CD’s, as well as posters, and any other merchandise he could get his hands on. It took him a fair amount of time to get the place together, to hire some teenagers looking for work as part-time employees, and make sure everything was the very best it could be before finally, on September 19th, 2003, _Richie’s Records_ opened in New York City, just two blocks away from Times Square. 

The opening of Richie Tozier’s record shop had been highly anticipated by the local press, so it was no surprise that a fairly large crowd was waiting outside the doors on opening day. Richie stood in the shop with his employees - or ‘crew’ as he preferred to call them. His back to the door where there was the telltale flash of cameras and the buzz of people talking excitedly, pushing against the door as they desperately tried to get in. The crew, adorned in black pants and yellow t-shirts with the ‘Richie’s Records’ labelled embroidered over the left breast mostly looked nervous, but Richie seemed excited. 

“Today, you lovely people will be apart of music history! A part of the history of New York! This will be one of the most important days in your whole lives, I say!” He spoke with the sort of dramatic purpose that only the dorky stylings of Richie Tozier could provide. A few crew members cracked a couple of smiles. “Yes, that’s it. Today is the first day of the rest of your lives, my friends. But fret not! I believe in each and every one of you. It’s going to be crazy, yes indeed, there may even be blood shed! Who knows! Chaos will befall this place, but we will rise to victory, my dears! Together we stand, and together we will _not _fall! Now everyone… You remember our cheer?” He arched his eyebrow, and around the room, he was meant with nods. “Alright. On three? One, two, three-”__

“YOWZA!” 

“That’s what I like to hear!” Richie pumped his fist in the air. “Ready?” He turned towards the door, and put his hand on the lock. “Set-” He turned the lock and pulled the door open. The crowd began to flood in, spreading around the store. “GO!” Reporters turned and surrounded Richie immediately, shoving microphones and recording devices into his face. 

“Does this have anything to do with your divorce from Isabelle?” 

“Do you plan on returning to the stage at all?” 

“Are the rumors of you working for Saturday Night Live true?” 

“Are you opening a recording studio too?” 

“Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea-” It was the first time Richie got a word in, but it didn’t last long before more questions were thrown his way. None of which, he decided to comment on. Merely silencing them with - “This has been lovely, truly, but I do have some actual work to attend to here.” He pulled himself away from the crowd of them, some of them leaving, and some of them staying to question his crew. “DON’T ANSWER ANYTHING!” Richie shouted with cupped hands over the store - and the crew took his word. 

Richie headed his way up to the cash register, where he worked alongside one of his crew members in checking people out. He was eager to talk to his customers, say hello and thank them for coming out today. He even tossed in a free autograph with every purchase, which people seemed to be going nuts over. And Richie loved it - he loved the soft glow of the limelight and being able to make people happy. That was what he had always wanted.

* * *

**September 19th, 2003 - Kaspbrak/Collins Apartment - New York City, New York.**

 

Eddie Kaspbrak wanted nothing more than to just take a break. He had spent a long day driving around the city, traffic being even worst in the Times Square area because of the opening of _Richie’s Records_ and of course, that was where most of his clients had desired to be. The chauffeur service that Eddie worked for wasn’t anything easy, he would argue. Driving around the rich and famous in various luxury, but discreet, cars (One’s that drew less attention than limos) was something that took a toll on him. Coming into the apartment, being greeted by his loving girlfriend with an affectionate kiss on the cheek and a lukewarm tea being shoved into his hands was precisely what he expected. 

“Thank you, Myra.” He returned the kiss to her cheek and offered a tense smile. 

“Are you alright, Eddie? You seem tense.” Stiff and angry hands met his shoulders, trying to work away at the countless knots embedded in his muscles, but Eddie shrugged her off. 

“I’m just fine,” He assured. “I’m only tired.” He toed off his shoes and padded off towards the kitchen. He set his tea down to retrieve the bucket of various pill bottles from the cabinet. He sorted through it for a moment, removing five separate bottles and taking out a dose from each. With a couple sips of his tea, he swallowed them all down. Logically, he knew medicine wouldn’t work so quickly, but already he felt better. 

“I think I’m just going to go to bed, baby,” He told Myra, quickly drinking down the rest of his tea. 

“Aw, Eddie-bear are you sure?” She had barely started to ask for anything and she was already whining. “I was really hoping we could go and visit Richie Tozier’s new record shop! I love his shows and I would love to go and meet him.” 

Eddie grimaced. Not only had he heard far too much about Richie Tozier today - none of his memories regarding the man were all too pleasant. 

“Marty,” The affectionate pet-name he gave to his girlfriend only seemed to relax her, which was exactly what he needed right now. “You don’t want to meet Richie Tozier. He’s obnoxious and annoying.” 

“How would _you_ know?” Myra’s tone sounded accusing; and frankly, Eddie couldn’t blame her. The tiny nobody that was Eddie Kaspbrak knowing the handsome and famous Richie Tozier? Why, it didn’t seem believable at all! 

Eddie rubbed his hand over his face. “We went to school together, back when we were kids.” 

The gasp that came from Myra after that startled Eddie, and for a moment, he genuinely believed that she might’ve stopped breathing. 

“You were _friends with Richie Tozier!?_ ” 

“No, no!” Eddie shook his head, and Myra seemed to calm down the slightest bit. “No, no, baby… We just went to school together, back in Maine. He was in my grade and I remember he was loud and annoying and we all called him Trashmouth. I remember he… He smoked, and he always got into trouble and he was just a nuisance. Definitely not someone worth going out and meeting… Maybe someone like, that author Bill Denbrough, or that… That guy from that Time cover, Ben Hanscom? They also went to school with us.”

Myra seemed absolutely crestfallen about the revelation. She really didn’t care about some author or some architect. In her mind, you weren’t famous unless you were talked about by Perez Hilton. “Maybe we should go, Eddie… Maybe he remembers you… Maybe he’d give his a discount or something special?” 

Eddie shook his head again, putting his mug into the sink and putting the pills away. “He wouldn’t remember me, Marty. I had no friends back then. I didn’t talk to anyone, and they didn’t talk to me. Certainly someone as ‘cool’ as Richie Tozier wouldn’t remember me now.” He stepped towards her, pressing a peck on her lips. “I’m going to go take a nap now, okay, Marty? Then I’ll take you out to dinner later. Does that sound okay?” 

“Okay, sleep well, Eddie.” 

He headed off into their bedroom, changing out of his suit and into a pair of pajamas. Eddie dropped down into bed and hugged his pillow close to him. He always slept better without Myra by his side, it always got too hot when she was in the bed with him, and he found himself never able to get quite comfortable. 

Eddie had been just on the edge of sleep when he heard the front door open and close. Myra was gone, and he figured, she was going off to Richie’s Records. Ah, well. It was no skin off his back. If anything, knowing that she was gone and the house was at peace helped soothe Eddie off into the best sleep he had had in weeks.

* * *

It was later in the day, and while the record store was still flooded with people, it wasn’t as bad as it had been that morning. The crew and Richie had gotten used to the flow and fallen into the swing of things to get everything running smoothly, and it was exactly how Richie had dreamed for all of this to play out. Since his divorce he didn’t think he had ever been so happy. 

He smiled charmingly to every customer that came up to the counter, and the same held true for the chubby lady with blushing cheeks and a shy smile on her face - two ABBA records clutched in her hands which she presented to him shyly at the counter. 

“ABBA, huh? I like it! Disco never died.” Richie scanned the two records. “You a fan?” 

The woman nodded eagerly, still seeming to have difficulty finding her words. “My boyfriend likes them too.” She explained. “He…” She thought for a moment, and Richie tilted his head curiously. “His name is Eddie Kaspbrak, he said he used to go to school with you back in Maine?” 

There was a spark in Richie’s eye, a definite recognition at that name. But… No solid details. He couldn’t really place a face to the name, but he definitely felt his chest tightening and aching at the thought of that name. _I forgot something. I forgot something. There’s something I needed to do for him and I forgot. Fuck, what was it?_

“I did,” He confirmed with a nod, bringing the wide toothy grin back up onto his face - but it didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. Richie was incredibly frustrated now that he couldn’t remember what the hell it was that he had forgotten. Why did that name seem to mean so much to him but he couldn’t remember a single thing about the person it was attached to? He nearly wanted to bang his head against the wall. 

“Wow,” The woman looked quite literally like she had stars in her eyes, and Richie kept face with his grin. 

“Would you like an autograph?” He asked, and she nodded eagerly. He took out one of the glossy signed photos and uncapped his Sharpie. “What’s your name?” 

“Myra,” 

“To Myra,” He wrote as he signed it. His writing was notably messy and scribbly, and would likely be impossible to read in a few months time when this moment started to fade from Myra’s memory. “Enjoy those records and stop by again! You seem like a lovely lady. Thank you for your support… Richie Tozier.” He punctuated it with a drawing of a smiley face and slipped the photo into the bag with her records. “Have a nice day, Miss Myra-” The Alfred Pennyworth Voice was back. “And I do hope to see you again,” He tipped an invisible hat. Myra giggled. 

“I’m sure you will! I’ll bring Eddie by next time too!” 

“I look forward to it!” 

 

Myra returned home, and Eddie was still asleep. She had taken out the vinyls and added them to their small collection. Most of them were old, and rarely played albums from their teenage years but Myra thought they might pull out those new ABBA records tonight. She proudly displayed the autograph on the mantle of the electric fireplace in the dining room, and a few hours later, Eddie naturally noticed it. He didn’t say anything on it, and he didn’t touch it. If it made Myra happy, he was happy too. As promised, they went out together that night, and soon enough, Richie Tozier was the last thing on his mind.

* * *

**April 7th, 2007 - Richie’s Records - New York City, New York**

Four years had passed since the opening of the record store, and Richie’s fame, as well as vinyl sales, had hit an all time low. No longer did people care to come in and get his autograph. Occasionally, some tourist would come in and crack a couple of jokes referencing Richie’s old material, and he’d laugh along, do a couple of Voices, but that was about that. Richie was perfectly okay with that. The store was still doing incredibly well based on CD sales and other merchandise, and he even had performances from local indie artists and occasionally bigger names performing every Sunday night. The store had done everything Richie ever dreamed it could, and if it wasn’t for waking up to annoying phone calls, it would’ve been _perfect._

Richie’s manager called him at the crack of dawn at least once a week - even before Richie’s alarm had gone off. He rolled out of bed, and picked up his phone. “Good morning, Helen,” His exhaustion was evident in his voice, and he was hoping that it would make her feel bad, but Richie was having no such luck. He was convinced that Helen was a robot without any natural emotions. 

“Richie,” Her voice was crisp and clearly annoyed. “Did you reach out to that guy from Saturday Night Live about writing for them like I asked you to three weeks ago?” Fuck, he knew he forgot something. Richie rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh. 

“No,” And before he could say anything else, Helen was interrupting him with an annoyed rant. 

“Do you want to have a career, Richie? I’ve kept your name in people’s minds all this time, I’ve sent out tapes of your old bits, I’ve kept Comedy Central re-running your performances, I’ve sent you contracts from comedy festivals… People still want to hear you Richie! They like you! You’re funny! All you need to do is take the step!” 

Richie had heard this time and time again, and he thanked her every time. The residual checks from each of those things were something he was grateful for every time they came in the mail, but he couldn’t help but be tired of that whole scene - and no matter how many times he told Helen that he was done with it all, she kept bugging him and bugging him and begging him to take to the stage again. Richie was almost considering doing one last tour just to get her off of his back for a little while… And maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, it’s not like he had a wife to worry about cheating on him while he was gone this time. 

“I’ll call the guy later… Gus, right?” 

“Gus Tylers. I’ll email you his number. Richie, you better do this. Do this or I’ll stop representing you.” 

It wasn’t the first time Helen had made that threat either, and Richie had found himself no longer caring about it. “I will, promise. My word is my bond.” He rattled off, standing up and starting to head off towards the bathroom. 

“I’ll call you tonight to make sure you did.” 

“Oh, I can’t wait.” And with that, he hung up on her, snapping his flip-phone shut. 

Richie took a long and hot shower to wake himself up, then he got himself dressed in his signature look of black jeans, a yellow Richie Record’s shirt (to keep solidarity with his crew. He felt it’d be unfair if he also didn’t wear the shirt) and topped it off with a Hawaiian shirt, this one white and patterned with hearts in all the colours of the rainbow. He looked over this small collection of glasses, all of them in different colours too, although his favourite were the ones with neon pink frames. He decided to wear those ones today. They were shaped like the glasses he used to wear in his youth, but now the lenses weren’t as thick, even if his vision had only gotten worse. His eyes were a normal size beneath them. 

Finally, he lazily mixed some mousse into his mess of dark curls on his head. He actually put _some_ effort into styling his hair these days, but still favoured his hair to look mostly a mess. 

He had been about to mix up a bowl of his favourite instant oatmeal when another call came through. He immediately knew who it must be, and his stomach felt sick thinking about it. He answered, and before he could even get a word in, Isabelle Tozier was speaking. 

“You know you can’t avoid alimony forever.” 

What a lovely way to start his day. 

“You know you’re not going to get it forever,” He said dryly. “I don’t have to pay it once you get married.” 

“And that’s still three months away, and you’re also three months behind, Richie.” Isabelle seemed almost _smug_ about it. He wondered if she would bother taking it to court. The fees that she’d have to pay would probably suck up all the alimony he owed her anyways… But he didn’t exactly put it beyond her either. 

“And does Luke Wilson really not have enough money to keep you satisfied, my dear? Do you really need my money too?” 

There wasn’t even a pause to think before Isabelle said “Yes.” 

Richie huffed. He went to get his checkbook, and wrote out six checks in the appropriate amount, each of them dated one month apart. “There. I just wrote six checks. Dated a month apart each. I’ll mail them out to tomorrow. Happy?” 

Apparently, she was, because without a word, Isabelle hung up. 

With that done, Richie set the checks onto his kitchen table and placed an apple over them so he wouldn’t lose them. He was going to go and open the shop, now without any time to even have a coffee. He made and ate his oatmeal, and then headed downstairs to go and start his day just like any other. 

And it was a completely normal day like any other. Within a couple of hours, his conversations with Helen and Isabelle were forgotten and he was back and in his regular spirits - talking and laughing with his crew members and customers and having a good of day as any. Even in such a good mood that he ordered in a pizza for the crew around lunch. He liked to think he was a good boss, and he had a low turnover rate, so he figured that was a pretty good sign about his business. They liked working with him. 

Perhaps it was another good thing, it was about a half hour to close and he sent them all home early. He didn’t expect them to get busy at 10:30 at night, and he’d handle closing up on his own. Besides, he liked having the space to blast music over the speakers and sing and dance while he swept up the store - which was precisely what he was doing. 

Using the end of the broom as a microphone, he sang loudly and badly while he spun around the aisles. 

_Oh_  
_The taste of your lips_  
_I’m on a ride_  
_You're toxic I'm slippin' under_  
_With a taste of a poison paradise_  
_I'm addicted to you_  
_Don't you know that you're toxic?_  
_And I love what you do_  
_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

Richie’s performance was halted when he heard the bell of the door being opened barely ringing out over the thumping noises of Britney Spears over the speakers. Standing there, was a short guy with thin framed glasses, soaking wet hair stuck to his forehead and his black overcoat dripping wet. His gaze was turned downwards frowning at the wetness in his _loafers_ and Richie almost laughed at the man who appeared to be his polar opposite. 

He produced a small remote from his pocket and turned down the volume of the music. “What can I do for you, sir? Perhaps offer you an umbrella?” 

The man looked up, and for the first time Richie saw his face and realized the man was about his age, but he looked older. He was tired, and there was a distinct unhappiness in his face. There was also something _so familiar_ about him, but Richie couldn’t quite place it. He was going to piss him off, he was sure of it. 

The man brushed his wet hair off of his forehead, and took off his glasses, attempting to clean off the raindrops with his damp jacket, but it didn’t help at all. “Do you have the new Keith Urban album? Or, I think it’s his new one… the one with his cover of Romeo’s Tune?” He asked. Sighing at the state of his glasses and instead just tucked him into his jacket pocket. 

“Now, why on Earth would you want the Keith Urban version when the Steve Forbert one is so much better?” Richie asked him, but he complied. “I think I only have it on CD. Is that alright?” He left the broom behind, going to search for the country section and flipped through the CD’s, checking the back of them to make sure it had the correct song. “Aha! Here we are, _Greatest Hits: 18 Kids_ by Keith Urban.” He presented the disc to Eddie proudly. 

Eddie checked it over for his own purposes and nodded contently. “I agree with you about Steve Forbert but… My girlfriend is crazy about this Keith Urban guy, and she loves the cover.” He shrugged a little. “I’d do anything to make her happy,” But there was no real sense of romance in his words. Richie noticed it. 

“And what’s a guy like you doing with a girl with no taste in music?” The question held no offense in it, but Eddie always got strangely defensive when it came to his relationship with Myra. 

“Because I love her,” He snapped. Richie held up his hands in defense, his eyes widening slightly at his outburst. 

“Never meant you didn’t,” He assured, his tone a little bit gentler. Eddie felt his shoulders slump, and a strange sense of guilt overtake him. Richie Tozier had been nothing but annoying throughout his time in Derry, and yet, here he was feeling bad for getting snippy with him. What was the world coming to? 

“It’s fine… I knew what you meant… Can I just get the CD? It’s her birthday.” 

_It’s her birthday and you haven’t even gotten her gift yet? What a way to show the gal you love her._ But Richie didn’t vocalize that thought. Instead, he merely offered his customer service smile and lead the way up to the cash register, scanning the CD and rattling off the total of “20.75, but for you, good sir… 15.75.” 

From his wallet, Eddie pulled out a $20 bill and three quarters. “20.75,” There was a firmness in his tone that Richie wasn’t going to argue with right now. So he merely thanked Eddie, who then prompted him with a surprising question. “You’re from Derry, right? Class of 94?” 

“Yeah.” Richie confirmed, and now looking at this guy… Something was clicking. Something frustrating and fuzzy in the back of his mind that was screaming _You know him!_ but Richie couldn’t figure it out. “Didn’t actually graduate from there. Moved out to Beverly Hills before I got the chance but… Yeah, yeah I’m from there. I guess you are too?” He offered the yellow plastic bag containing the CD towards him. Richie had long since stopped giving out autographs with purchases. 

“Yeah. We were in the same class… Eddie Kaspbrak.” He gave a small wave, and something fell into place. 

_Inhaler. Fanny packs. Perfectly styled hair. Wristwatch alarms followed by pills. Placebos. Broken arm. Loser. Losers Club. Eddie Spaghetti. Eds. My love-_

“Well, I gotta get going.” Suddenly, he seemed to be in a rush. His face had paled and his breathing quickened as he moved towards the door, while Richie seemed to be absolutely frozen in his place. His jaw slightly dropped and a headache seeming to split his head open. He couldn’t remember everything, he _knew_ he wasn’t remembering everything, but suddenly, Eddie Kaspbrak was the only thing on his mind, and he watched as his figured disappeared out the door into the rain again. 

Richie remembered he was supposed to call him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnd there it is! thank you to gilded_iris for encouraging me to post this early, but i'm super excited about it and eager to see what everyone thinks. i wasn't planning on posting this until the clueless au was done, but i'm so eager to have it out there and i can't wait to see what everyone thinks! 
> 
> please leave a comment and tell me what you think and hopefully i'll have chap 2 up soon!


	2. step two: realize something is missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello?” 
> 
> He must’ve sounded awful, because the first words out of Maggie Tozier’s mouth were - “Richie, are you okay?”

**April 7th, 2007 - Kaspbrak/Collins Apartment - New York City, New York.**

Dripping wet from the rain, Eddie let himself into the apartment after far too long of a day at work. And then the conversation with Richie that had left him with a pounding headache and an overwhelming (and unfamiliar) desire to return home to Myra, he was not in the best of moods. 

“Eddie?” 

Strangely, her voice felt comforting. It was familiar and where he belonged. This was what he needed. Routine and organization, this was safe and comfortable and completely non-chaotic. 

“Hey, Marty.” Eddie spoke with nothing but affection. He hung up his jacket and pushed back his wet hair. He wanted to dry off, but instead, he peeled off his shoes and stepped properly inside, joining Myra on the couch and pressing a kiss onto her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m home late… Work was busy today, and with the rain traffic was awful. Happy birthday.” 

Myra didn’t say anything, merely pulling him into a warm and wet kiss. It wasn’t unpleasant, Eddie would insist, but he still found himself being the first to pull away. “I thought you forgot.” Myra said quietly, pulling him back in against her lips, and he allowed her to do it. 

“I didn’t forget,” He said quietly, leaning away from her after a couple more moments of kissing her. “I got you something.” He showed off the yellow bag and Myra took it with eager hands, pulling out the CD from inside. 

“Oh, Eddie! You remembered!” She clutched it close to her chest, grinning broadly towards him - but it only lasted for a few moments. The grin hadn’t quite reached her eyes, and the looked down towards the CD with a sense of disappointment about her. 

“What’s the matter?” Eddie asked her softly. 

“I... It’s silly, Eddie.” Myra looked back up towards him - and whatever it was, Eddie decided that it wasn’t silly. 

“What is it?” He pressed again, and Myra took in a careful breath. 

“I was hoping that you would propose…” She said quietly, and Eddie froze. He didn’t know how to answer that question. They had been together for years, and Eddie supposed it was natural for her to want to get married but… He didn’t. He couldn’t see himself settling down and marrying _her_. Or anyone, for that matter. But Myra especially. He just wasn’t ready for that, and it didn’t mean that he didn’t love her or that he didn’t want to be with her… Right? 

“I will, Marty,” Her face lit up - and Eddie was quick to calm her. “Soon.” It was a promise that he knew he’d have to keep eventually, and even though he didn’t give a specific time range, Myra seemed satisfied with it anyways. Nodding eagerly, she set the CD aside and pulled Eddie up to his feet.

He went willingly as he felt her press kisses onto his neck. It felt nice, but it was by no means arousing. But that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. She started to lead him back towards the bedroom, and Eddie went willingly. He loved her, and even if he didn’t feel sexually attracted to her… Eddie somehow made it work. It was her birthday, and Eddie made love to his girlfriend.

* * *

**April 8th, 2007 - Richie Tozier’s Apartment - New York City, New York**

He knows it must be a dream because there is absolutely no way that it can be real. 

First, he’s in that house on Neibolt Street. It’s dusty and familiar, with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and the distinct sound of footsteps upstairs. His mind tells him to look, but he knows what’s up there. He can hear the voice in his head. 

_Do you wanna play loogie?_

He remembers that scene all too well. Eddie - no, not Eddie. Real Eddie was downstairs with a broken arm and scared out of his mind with the clown ready to take him, while Richie and Bill were off getting distracted with tricks and illusions. Richie stared into the house, his eyes wide and he could hear the clown laughing at him. He could feel it’s presence all around him. 

_Beep beep, Richie._

There’s the Paul Bunyan statue, just as he remembers it in Derry. It’s large and powerful and there’s children playing and climbing up it. A particularly adventurous boy clings tightly to the statue’s knee and tries to pull himself up higher. His goal is to be the first to perch upon the shoulder, and he doesn’t think about how he would get down. Richie steps closer, and he can hear the kids friends yelling at him, and he realizes they’re not as young as he thinks - they must be at least ten. 

“Richie! Get down! You’re going to get hurt!” The smallest of the three other boys shouts. He looks about near tears. Richie, _the adult Richie_ , feels bad for him. 

“H-H-He’s r-right,” Stutters out the tallest. His hair shines red in the sun, and for a moment, his younger self actually listens. He stops and glances down towards his friends, sitting on the base of the statue and watching him in worry. The adult Richie also notices that he’s not the only adult in the park, but he’s the only one paying attention to these kids. He thinks the younger Richie could fall off and hurt himself and no one around would even bat an eye. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. 

The Richie attached to the statue moves to shift down, but is stopped by a large stone hand. It’s come up on his back, keeping him pressed still against the statue. The three boys on the edge of the statue scream, and scramble away together. They’re shouting and screaming and crying, but neither Richie can do anything. Both of them feeling the crushing weight of the statue against themselves. He watched as his younger self was pulled away from Paul Bunyan’s leg and lifted by the back of his shirt, and felt a tug on his own shirt as he was lifted into the air. The air was sucked out of his lungs and replaced entirely by _fear_. Richie squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them- 

He was thirteen again. He could feel it. He was thirteen-years-old and Eddie Kaspbrak was by his side, holding onto his wrist with his good arm. They were in the sewers… They were leaving the sewers. They were messy and sweaty and bloody and tired. Eddie somehow knew his way around the tunnels and he was choosing to keep Richie close to his side. 

“Eds?” 

Richie heard his own voice loud and clear, but Eddie made no attempt to respond. “Eddie, what’s going on? Do you know where you’re going?” He remembered this. The answer was definitely yes, but he didn’t ask the question then. In fact, that day was likely the longest amount of time Richie was silent. Memories didn’t change, Richie realized, even if he had been avoiding them for so long. 

The world around him changed again. It was early July but late at night. Eddie’s hand was in his and they stood together just outside of the gate on 29 Neibolt Street. 

“You’d think someone would have torn it down by now.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, and Richie looked over towards him. Yes, he remembered this day too. It was a week before he was supposed to move, and he brought Eddie back to Neibolt with him one last time. He didn’t know if they were going to go inside or not. _(We did.)_ Nor did he know what was going to happen if they did go inside. _(Eddie cried.)_ But he did know that he wanted to remember this place. _(I didn’t.)_

“Who even owns this land?” 

“I don’t know.” _(Robert Gray. You found that out three days later when you looked up the records in the library. Robert Gray owned the land. Robert Gray had no record of being born, or of dying. The city couldn’t touch the land because it was owned by Robert Gray. Who’s Robert Gray?)_

“Someone has to… Otherwise, someone would’ve bought it and done something with it, right? Fill in the well…” 

“That wouldn’t stop IT, Eds. You know that as well as I do. IT would just… Find some other way out. The sewers are all over the city… There’s nothing we can do but wait.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. It sounded wiser - beyond his time. Richie didn’t know if it was him making up the memory, or if it was his current self speaking through his younger… It wouldn’t be the craziest thing to ever happen to him, after all. 

Richie woke up. Another headache threatening to crack his head apart and with far too much crowding his mind. He hardly even noticed his phone ringing until it was almost too late. He didn’t even open his eyes as he groped for it beside him, flicking it open and pressing it to his ear. 

“Hello?” 

He must’ve sounded awful, because the first words out of Maggie Tozier’s mouth were - “Richie, are you okay?” 

“Mm. Yeah, I’m fine, mom. Just woke up with a headache. I’ll get some Advil in a second,” It sounded like a promise, and Maggie let her worry ebb away on the other side of the line. 

“Alright… Are you doing okay otherwise? The store doing well? Are you seeing anyone?” It was the same way Maggie started every conversation with her son. They didn’t talk as often as either of them would like, but they were both busy with work and their lives - so Maggie accepted about the two phone calls a month she’d get from Richie, and the fact that he always came home for Christmas. Richie liked his parents, they had always been good to him and he did his best to maintain a solid relationship with them.

“Yes, yes, and no.” It was also the exact same way he answered each of those questions. Richie was, up until yesterday, doing very well. Now, he wasn’t so sure, but he couldn’t spill all of that to his mother. The store was doing well, at least, and he wasn’t seeing anyone (that was hard these days. After what happened with Isabelle, Richie had lost all interest in dating.) 

“You really should get out there again, Richie.” The encouragement from Maggie was gentle. And she really didn’t mean any harm by it. But she didn’t know what it was like to be cheated on, to lose the first _(second?)_ person you ever loved and not to be able to trust again. Eddie came back to his mind in full force. 

“What do you remember about Derry?” 

On the other end of the line, his mother is silent for a moment. Richie knows he’s holding his breath, and there shouldn’t be so much of a build-up for this question… She must remember, right? She didn’t fight the clown. She doesn’t know about the curse. There’s no reason for her to have forgotten anything, there was nothing to keep her back from remembering. 

_(What was that about a clown?)_

“Not much, really,” Richie let out his breath. Maggie seemed slightly disinterested. “Nothing really happened there, that I can recall… Your father had his dental practice, and you went to school… Hung out with your friends… And then we moved to Beverly Hills just before your senior year. I remember you really wanted to stay in Derry, but that’s about all. It was such a strange place, Derry… I don’t know why you wanted to stay so badly.” 

“What about my friends? Do you remember any of them?” That was the real question. That was the one that mattered. 

“What brought this on, Richie?” 

“It doesn’t matter, mom, can you please just answer the question?” Richie groaned, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye. 

“Weren’t you friends with… Oh, what’s his name? That horror author… Bill something?” 

“Bill Denbrough!” Yes, of course Bill. “Big Bill. Stuttering Bill…” Richie couldn’t remember anything else beyond that - and if that wasn’t the most frustrating thing in the whole world - he considered slamming his head against the wall, as though that would somehow jog his memory. 

“Richie? Are you okay?” Maggie’s concern was genuine, and frankly, Richie couldn’t blame her. He knew he was acting weird. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, mom… Thanks… I’ll call you back later tonight?” He asked. “I gotta go and get the shop open.” 

Maggie still didn’t seem to be completely convinced that everything was okay - but she still found herself letting out a small sigh and a “Okay, Richie,” Before he hung up the phone. Richie ran his fingers through his hair, messy and tangled from sleep - and he let out a string of curses, although they did nothing to relieve the pressure on his brain. 

Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

_(The clown was Robert Gray. Bob Gray. It owned the house on Neibolt Street where it lived. You all fought it that summer, that summer that you can’t remember a piece of. What happened? Why can’t you remember it? Where are they? Eddie. You know where Eddie is. He’s in New York City, just like you, living with his nice girlfriend and you hate it because you were in love - no, you were kids. You were just kids and you can’t be jealous now. That was over fifteen years ago, and you both moved on. He’s your friend. He’s your friend and you need to see him again before your whole fucking head implodes-)_

“Richie?” 

He looked up, one of his crew members was facing him. Jessica - she’s only eighteen and been working in the shop for two years, one of his top employees. Richie’s already decided that if she sticks around in New York, she’ll probably end up as a manager. His usual lazy grin spreads across his face. 

“Sorry, Jess. Got a bit distracted there,” He confessed. “What do you need?”

“I was just going to ask if you could get down the box of new releases for me. We need some restocking in that section.” They kept the new releases on rotation, and the box at the moment was on the top shelf in the stockroom. There was a step-ladder in there, but when you were only 5’2” like Jessica, and trying to pull down a large, heavy box… It didn’t work out too well. Richie didn’t mind stepping away from the counter to go and get it. Jessica took his place. 

Richie hadn’t been afraid of the dark since he was eight-years-old, but as he flicked the switch on the stockroom and nothing happened… He felt his blood run cold. The door was heavy, and wouldn’t stay open on his own, which meant he was going to have to step inside and plunge himself in the darkness. 

He saw the box, directly across from him on the top shelf. The ladder was already placed below it, indicating that Jessica had tried to get it down on her own. He wondered if the light had been off for her too… No, she would’ve said something. 

 

There was nothing to be afraid of, Richie thought to himself. Absolutely nothing to be scared of. It was just a dark room and it was stupid to fear it. He was acting absolutely ridiculous and he needed to settle the fuck down. He forced his legs to move, and took one step in. The door fell shut behind him, and clicked into place. Immediately, he tested the knob, pushing it open again. Alright, the door opened still - the sliver of light shining through proved that. All he needed to do was walk six feet forward, get the box down, and move on. That was all there was to it. With a deep breath, he took a step. And another. And another. 

_(What if there’s a werewolf? Really? A werewolf. There’s not a fucking werewolf in your stockroom, dumbass.)_ He took another step forward - and seemed to hesitate, as though his childhood fear of werewolves was coming back to haunt him. Richie felt fucking ridiculous. _(Besides, it’s daylight anyways. What sort of werewolf turns during the daylight? I don’t even think it’s a full moon. There’s nothing to worry about. Werewolves aren’t real, and even if they were, this isn’t the time for them to be out and trying to rip the flesh from your bones - oh fuck, that did absolutely nothing to help.)_

Richie squeezed his eyes shut - and there was virtually no difference with the pitch black of the room around him anyways. 

He kept pushing himself in steps forward - until his shin hit the step ladder and Richie swore loudly at the pain. But he was there, he made it to the other end without dying or getting attacked. Richie found his footing - stepping up and reaching for the box. He lifted it down and turned around, heading back towards the door. 

The walk felt longer this time, and he wasn’t sure if it was just him taking careful steps, not wanting to drop the merchandise or if the room was actually expanding before him and he’d never be able to escape. He hit the wall. 

Richie shifted the box into one hand and fumbled with the door knob, finally pushing it open and exposing himself to the light once more. He let out a breath of relief, and felt himself relax. Then, he felt stupid. Really, incredibly stupid at having let something like this build up and scare him. He made a note to change the lightbulb in the room, assuming that was what happened. He brought the box up to the counter, where Jessica smiled brightly and thanked him. 

Richie rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. He hadn’t been scared like that in a long time, and even then, he knew there was actually nothing that he needed to be afraid of. It was all in his head - he was just making it up. 

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**April 9th, 2007 - Kaspbrak/Collins Apartment - New York City, New York**

It had been two days since Eddie last saw Richie, and he was doing just fine with that. His head felt like it had been beat with an egg scrambler come the next morning, and throughout the day he had experienced weird fragmented memories - mostly involving Richie, but some with other kids his age that he couldn’t quite recognize. It had been frustrating and annoying and Eddie did his best to push them into the back of his mind, and by the time he woke up the next day, he was feeling much, much better. 

He slipped out of bed to get up for work, pressing a kiss onto Myra’s cheek, before getting himself ready for the day. 

It was a practiced routine, which Eddie could pull off without making a sound. Getting himself showered and dressed, making breakfast, and slipping out the door to get to work.

* * *

Eddie liked driving a lot. 

It wasn’t completely independent, of course, having to drive clients to their chosen destinations - but Eddie liked it nonetheless. He liked that he got to be in control, to take the routes he wanted and have the freedom and being the one in control for once. Eddie so rarely got to be in control in his life - living from alarm to alarm where he’d swallow back a concoction of pills. But between each of those alarms, he was free, he was independent, and he was in complete control. 

Today was no remarkable day. He was booked for three trips. The first one was picking up a musical artist by the name of Mika from his hotel, taking him to a photoshoot and later in the evening Eddie would go and pick him up again. However, after the initial drop off he had a two hour break until his next pickup, which was a stern looking woman from the airport. The ticket she presented to him read HELEN HIGHLAND - confirming her identity. Eddie didn’t recognize her name. 

“You know where Richie’s Record’s is?” She asked him. 

Right. The ticket had only given him the address, not the actual location. Eddie knew exactly where he was going. 

“Of course.” He confirmed, and started off of the drive. 

Helen was silent in the backseat, which wasn’t too surprising. Half the time, people didn’t talk while they were in the car. Eddie kept himself focused on the road ahead, and ignored the beeping on his watch about halfway through the ride. He could wait another twenty-minutes. Helen didn’t even seem to notice the beeping as she texted away in the back seat. 

Before Eddie knew it, he was pulling up in front of the bright media store and parking. “When would you like me to-” 

“Could you stay? I don’t think this will take longer than twenty minutes,” Helen interrupted, and Eddie nodded in agreement. Without another word, she was out of the car and heading into the store. 

Eddie took the moment alone to swallow down his usual batch of pills with a bottle of water, as well as adding in an Advil to calm the headache that was forming just from being so close to the record store. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the seat, aiming to relax, but that was not what he was going to get -

 **November 8th, 1992 - Richie Tozier’s Bedroom - Derry, Maine**

Eddie was curled up to Richie’s side, like he so frequently did during sleepovers. There was an air mattress blown up next to Richie’s bed, and the blankets were ruffled from where Eddie had attempt to sleep, but it hadn’t taken long for him to end up laying in Richie’s bed with him. Richie’s hand trailing slowly up and down his back while Eddie mouthed at Richie’s neck in gentle kisses. The act was intimate, but not sexual. Neither of them had any intention of it going further than just soft kisses when Richie’s parents were in the room next door. 

“I could lay here forever, Eds.” 

The request to stop being called Eds was on the tip of his tongue, Eddie decided against it in favour of ducking his head to suck a bruise onto Richie’s bare shoulder. The fact that he slept shirtless was incredibly beneficial to the little game that they were playing. 

“Yeah, I could definitely lay here forever,” He let out a breathy sigh, rubbing a light circle onto the small of Eddie’s back. Eddie grinned, raising his head to peck a light kiss onto his lips. 

“I could too,” He told him gently. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” 

Richie hummed. “Wow, I can’t believe how damned lucky I am. I’m gonna marry you one day, Eds. Just you wait.” 

Eddie laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement. “You _wish!_ ” The remark was meant to be teasing; but it was a little too real. Gay people couldn’t get married in America (or anywhere else for that matter), and with the way things were looking right now - just in the downfall of the AIDS crisis… That wasn’t going to change anytime soon. But it was still nice to talk about. 

“No, Eddie. I mean it. All I’ll need to do is get you a wig and tell them your name is… Edith, and then I’ll make you my bride and only reveal the truth after! It’ll be a big ol FUCK YOU to the government. And what will they do about that?” Richie spoke as though it was a serious plan, but the grin on his face told Eddie enough - he was just imagining too. And it was nice to imagine. So, Eddie laughed. 

“Annul the marriage. They definitely won’t consider it to be valid… They might arrest us too, which would really suck.” Eddie found himself still laughing a little bit as he said it. “God, we’d get the shit kicked outta us in jail.” 

He knew it wasn’t something at all to laugh at, but he couldn’t help it. With Richie, he felt so light and free. Like he could laugh at the most ridiculous things and it would be okay. Because he knew, that so long as he had Richie by his side, things would be okay. Eddie didn’t think that they’d need to get married to spend their lives together. 

Eddie couldn’t imagine himself in a future without Richie. 

“Jesus, Eds. You almost sound like you wanna land yourself in Shawshank.” Richie snorted, before signing for Eddie to quiet his laughter - he complied. “Are you more badass than I thought?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, hiding his red cheeks against Richie’s neck and treating him to more sweet kisses. “Maybe _you’re_ just more of a tight ass than you thought. Ever consider that one?” 

It was Richie’s turn to laugh. “Yowza, Eds. Guess you’re right.” 

“Oh, and Rich?” 

“Hm?” 

Eddie bit his neck, not enough to really hurt him, but a warning. “Don’t call me Eds.”

* * *

**April 9th, 2007 - A Cadillac, out front of Richie’s Records - New York City, New York**

Eddie came to with a jolt. 

There was a tingling still setting in his stomach as he heard the sounds of fighting just outside of the car. A moment ago, he had been seventeen again in Richie Tozier’s house and- _oh._ The memory had been too real - and now, his head felt like it was about to implode. Eddie’s cheeks flushed pink - but it wouldn’t last long. He looked up, to see Richie seeming to be in a heated argument with Helen. He couldn’t make out the words, but there was a distinct shouting match between them. Richie looked about ready to explode - but they both fell silent as Helen re-entered the vehicle. Eddie started the car. 

“Take me to my hotel.” 

Eddie didn’t say a word, and he didn’t ask questions. The memory and the after-effects faded away too. He got Ms. Helen Highland to her hotel, helped her with her bags, and headed out onto his next pick-up. 

This was his last of the day, and truth be told, he hardly remembered it. It was a blur as he drove them around - completely out of his head and thinking over the strange memory that had appeared earlier. It hadn’t been true, and he knew it couldn’t have been true… But it had felt so incredibly real and now nothing made sense. Surely, he must’ve imagined it, right? There was no way that he could have forgotten something like that, right? 

He picked up Mika from the photoshoot and drove him back to his hotel, where Eddie sat and waited for a while. Mentally, he wrestled with a couple different ideas and thoughts before he came to a conclusion. 

He was going to have to see Richie. 

He’d have to call Myra first, Eddie realized. She would notice if he was home late and he didn’t want to have her worry too much about him. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, flipped it open, and called her. 

“Eddie!” Myra answered on the first ring. “Is something wrong?” 

Of course she would assume that. Eddie hardly called her otherwise. 

“No, dear, nothing’s wrong.” Eddie assured her. “I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be home late, I have a last minute ride to do. One of the other drivers cancelled,” It was a lie - but Myra likely wouldn’t look too deep into it. At least, Eddie hoped she wouldn’t. He held his breath-

“Alright,” There was a sound of disappointment in her tone. “You’ll be home soon?”

“Of course, Marty. I won’t be gone too long. I’ll be home before you know it. Just about an hour longer from now, okay?” 

“Do you have your medicine?” 

“Yes, I do. I’ll be okay. I’ll see you soon. I love you.” 

“Love you too, Eddie.” 

He hung up the phone after that and gripped the steering wheel tightly. He could get out of this. He could just drive around uselessly for an hour and not go see Richie. 

_”I’m gonna marry you one day, Eds.”_ Those words would continue to echo throughout his mind, and Eddie knew there was no way he was going to be able to let that go unless he talked to Richie. So, he started the car up again and drove.

* * *

**April 9th, 2007 - Richie’s Records - New York City, New York**

He hates fighting with Helen, and he hates the fact that he just fired her. Richie figures it won’t last long. He’ll come to his senses, call the guy from SNL, take the job and call Helen and rekindle their professional partnership and things will be great for him. He knows it’s bound to happen, and it’ll be good for him, but Richie still finds himself dreading having to swallow his pride like that. He likes Helen, he really does, but he doesn’t want to cave and just have her win like that. 

The fight, at least, helped clear his head. He felt more at ease the rest of of the day which was a welcome relief to how he felt before. Werewolves were no longer on his mind and he was back in the normal swing of running his store… That was until the ghost haunting him walked right in through the front door. 

Eddie Kaspbrak stood in the doorway of the shop. This time he was dry, and this time, he wasn’t looking for Keith Urban, no, he settled his eyes on Richie at the counter and stepped over to talk to him without a second thought. 

“Hey,” Eddie greeted. 

“Hi,” Richie sounded sick. 

A customer with a handful of CD’s comes up, and Eddie steps aside. Richie rings them up and he feels Eddie’s eyes boring into him, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle, but Richie keeps up his customer service attitude, talking to the customer and getting them checked out. Richie didn’t acknowledge Eddie again until the customer had left. 

“What are you doing here, Eds?” 

There was something about that that caused a flicker in Eddie’s eyes - but Richie had no idea what it was, or what it meant. 

“Who are you?” 

Richie knew what he meant by that, and it was a question that he wasn’t quite prepared to answer. So a false grin grew on his lips. “Richie Tozier’s the name, owner of this shop, former darling of Comedy Central, and staring at that sweet face of yours, Mr Kaspbrak. What can I do for you?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head a little. “You know what I mean,” 

“I actually have _no idea_ what you’re talking about,” Richie said instead - which, in some ways, was true. He didn’t know what was going on with Eddie, or what this all meant. Hell, it was quite possible he was making this all up. 

Only if he was, Eddie wouldn’t be there with him right now. His chest tightened uncomfortably. 

Eddie shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Another customer came up, which briefly halted the conversation, and perhaps that was for the better. When the customer left, Eddie spoke up again. 

“What happened earlier? With you and that Helen woman?” The confused look on Richie’s face told Eddie enough. “I was her driver,” He explained, and Richie seemed to soften a little at that. 

“Same shit as usual. She wants me to get back into the circuit… I just wanna run the store. She came, we had a talk,” Eddie knew it wasn’t just a normal talk. “And I told her I didn’t need her anymore, but I do. I’ll call her tomorrow, figure something out,” He rubbed his eyes. “Christ, I can’t believe she flew out from L.A just to yell at me.” He didn’t know why he had told Eddie all of that, but he just felt compelled to tell him absolutely everything - like he had complete and utter trust in him. 

“Why don’t you wanna go back to the stage? You were a good comedian.” 

“Why thank you,” The grin on his face was more natural - but only lasted for a couple of seconds. “I dunno. Lost my passion for it. And I like it here. I like working here.” He didn’t get hurt working here, he was in complete control. 

After that, neither of them knew what to say. There was a lot on both of their minds - Richie could see it in Eddie’s face. But this… Wasn’t the place to do it. “Want to go upstairs?” He decided to ask. “My apartments up there… We can talk.” Eddie didn’t respond, but he nodded. 

Richie stepped away from the counter, telling Eddie to “Wait here,” While he went to retrieve a crew member, a girl in her late teens, shorter than Eddie with glasses, brown hair, and a bit too eager of a smile for someone who was at work. Her name tag simply read ‘Nat’. 

“If you need anything Nat, just come and knock on my door, okay? Mr. Kaspbrak here is an upcoming business partner and we need to sort some things out,” The lie fell off of his lips easily, so easily that Eddie himself almost believed it for a minute. He gave a smile to Nat, who nodded at Richie’s words. 

“You got it, boss.” 

“Alright. Mr Kaspbrak, if you would follow me?” Richie started to lead the way towards the back of the store. There, he opened an unlocked door which lead up to a set of stairs, Eddie followed him up to another door which was locked. Richie opened it with a key and motioned Eddie ahead of him. 

The apartment there was actually rather nice, and he was taken a little bit by surprise at the sight of it. However, he didn’t linger too long. He heard the door shutting behind him and turned back to Richie. 

“You can leave your shoes on,” Richie told him, walking through the apartment towards the kitchen. Eddie dutifully following him. “Do you want a drink?” 

“I’m okay.” 

So, Richie poured out a glass of water for himself and sat at the table, and Eddie followed suit, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface and it occurred to Richie how bad of an idea this was. “.. What do you remember?” He asked, after a couple of minutes of silence had taken them. 

“I remember you,” But he didn’t say what - he didn’t say anything specific. 

“Do you remember the rest of them? Bill? Stan? Beverly? Mike? Ben?” The names flowed from Richie’s lips without thought; and he could barely remember them beyond that. Only hazy figures and fragmented thoughts surrounded them - Eddie was the only one he could see clearly, and Richie figured it was because he was sitting in front of him. Avoiding his eye. Shaking his head. Richie’s throat felt dry, but he still didn’t touch his water. 

“You remember your mom, right?” Richie asks, and Eddie goes eerily still - he takes that as a yes. “You remember the summer where you broke your arm? And… Greta Keene… She wrote ‘LOSER’ on it and you… God, you covered up the S with a V so it said LOVER instead…” Richie let out a laugh that felt so familiar. He remembered laughing when he first saw it too. “Do you remember how you broke your arm?” _(It was in that house on Neibolt street. But how did it happen? Did I see it happen?)_ “Was it Henry Bowers that did it?” The question was mostly to himself that time, and Richie barely noticed Eddie flinching. “He fell down that well… And they found him. He survived and he said he killed all those kids but it was the clown… Holy shit, Eds, it was the clown-” 

Richie was drawn out of his thought process but Eddie jumping up to his feet, rattling the table. 

“There was no clown. Henry Bowers killed those kids and he tried to kill us and - and there was no clown. You’re crazy. You’re….” Whatever else he had to say died on his lips, and for a moment, Eddie just stared at him, his chest heaving and tears burning in his eyes. 

“Eds-” 

“You’re crazy.” He said again. Richie blinked, and like a bullet, Eddie was gone. He heard him running down the stairs, he heard the second door open and he heard his pounding footsteps fading away. Richie could almost imagine it - the ding of the door as he left, the starting of his car, and the sound of him merging into New York traffic and disappearing to go home to his girlfriend and pretend like this never happened. 

Richie slumped in his seat; defeated. 

And for the first time in four years, he cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here it is - chapter two! i'm really excited about this chapter and i'm excited to read what you all think about it!! things are starting to fall into place for both boys (even though eddie won't admit it) and i wonder what'll happen next! 
> 
> leave a comment and a kudos, and thank you for reading!!


	3. step three: connect the dots (part one.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so just a couple quick things before getting into the chapter! 
> 
> 1) you probably noticed i upped the rating of the fic. when i started this i didn't think i would get into the events of IT as much as i ended up doing and just some of the content discussed (non-graphically) isn't something i feel comfortable putting under the teens and up label. this also gives me more room to explore the events of the book/movie and become more comfortable with the horror aspect of the story. any changes to how this goes down will be discussed in authors notes and the rating/tags will reflect the content. 
> 
> 2) i didn't intend for this to be a whole chapter (or a two-parter at that!) and it was actually supposed to just be a little thing at the beginning of this chapter but it really got away from me and i decided it wanted to explore richie's relationship with the other losers in this lighthearted chapter. i hope you guys enjoy reading it and that it isn't too repetitive. 
> 
> 3) just some tw's for a vague mention of suicide, mentions of the sexual abuse beverly went through, and underaged smoking. i think thats about it?
> 
> anyways - enjoy!

**April 9th, 2007 - Richie Tozier’s Apartment - New York City, New York**

Richie must’ve been up there too long, or perhaps Eddie rushing out like that had built up too much concern. But Richie knew he was still crying when there was a tentative knock on the door. He knew it wasn’t Eddie, leaving him inclined to ignore it. He took off his glasses as they were starting to fog up. 

“Boss?” 

No, it was the voice of Nat on the other side of the door. With a heavy sigh and desperately trying to wipe at his eyes, he pulled himself up from his chair. “Yeah?” His throat was scratchy, and he regretted the sound. 

Nat was silent on the other side of the door for a moment. “Are you okay?” 

_(No, absolutely not. I am not okay. I am not okay. I am not okay. He left. He left me and my head is killing me and I can’t remember a single fucking thing for real. Was the clown real? Who knows! Not me! I’m fucking out of my mind, my dear Nat. I’m losing it. I’m fucking losing it. This isn’t even a midlife crisis, no siree, this is just your boss tripping out harder than he ever has in his whole life and he doesn’t even know why. Isn’t that fucking pathetic?)_

Richie pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, as though he could just push the tears back into his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’ll be down in a couple of minutes. Don’t worry about me.” 

As if that would do anything but make her worry. But she hesitated a moment before giving him a quiet “Okay,” and Richie listened as he heard her steps retreating down the stairs. 

Richie took a moment, stepping over to his kitchen counter and turning on the tap. He didn’t touch it, however, just listened to the water while he clutched the counter. 

“Fuckin’ breathe, Richie. You have memories. Everyone does. Most people don’t repress them then suddenly have them all come back but… No, no you’re fine. You’re fine. You just have a job to do. And you’re gonna do it. Get yourself together, asshole!” He cupped his hands under the water, and tossed it up towards his face. Most of it missed, soaking the floor and the counter, but he still did the same thing three more times. Finally, he shut off the tap and wiped his face off with a tea towel. The front of his shirt was soaked and Richie cursed himself. He stalked off to his room to change it out for another uniform shirt before he went back to collect his glasses and put on a brave face. 

The rest of his night was complete shit - but he survived. And Nat (or anyone else) didn’t ask any questions. 

**April 10th, 2007 - Starbucks Coffee - New York City, New York**

It wasn’t often that Richie indulged himself on the overpriced coffee of Starbucks. But, in his effort to make his apology to Helen more genuine, he figured he ought to actually do what she had wanted him to do and go and meet the people from SNL and see about a writer’s position. And he decided to take it a step further, too. Instead of just calling the guy, he’d show up in person. 

He was in desperate need of a kick of caffeine, and the only coffee shop on the NBC Lot was a Starbucks, so Richie swallowed his pride in drinking from only independent shops and waited his turn to place his order. 

He stepped up to the counter, and the teenager standing there had a striking familiarity that Richie, at first, couldn’t quite place. The barista was a tall teenager, with curly hair and bits of acne around his face. Richie gave his order (Tall coffee, no sugar and two creams) and it was only when the boy turned around that Richie noticed the kippah on his head. 

The memory clicked.

* * *

**September 4th, 1982 - Derry Elementary - Derry, Maine**

Richie had walked to school alone.

Well, if you could really call it that. He crossed the street after looking both ways and stood at the edge of the parking lot. He looked over his shoulder, and saw the smiling faces of his parents standing still at the front door of the house, waving proudly. Last year was the last time they were going to walk him to and from school, and Richie was proud of that! He was six-years-old now! He could walk to school on his own. A toothy grin spread on his face as he adjusted his Star Wars backpack on his back, and continued on his way. 

He made his way towards the playground around the back of the school. There was no question about which class he was going to be in, there was only one class for each grade. There wouldn’t be any change in the student body until they got to high school, when the students from Castle Rock would start to attend Derry High too. 

A quick scan over the playground, and Richie was quick to spot his best friend - Jimmy Cullum, sitting in the grass and picking around, seemingly looking for something. Richie rushed over, skidding his new jeans in the dirt as he slid over. “What’cha doing?” Richie asked him immediately. 

Jimmy only glanced up to Richie for a moment before he began to sort through the dirt again, almost too determined for Richie to comprehend. “I’m looking for worms.” 

Yeah, Richie really didn’t comprehend that. But, he didn’t complain either. Instead, dutiful as ever, he started to dig in the ground with Jimmy to find his best friend some worms! 

He didn’t find any worms. 

But that was okay! The bell had rung, and Richie and Jimmy headed up into class together, to find their new tables with their names taped onto them. The desks were arranged in pairs of two, and Richie was quick to find his (labelled ‘RICHARD’ which he promptly scratched out in crayon and corrected to say ‘RICHIE’ instead) and his neighbor, ‘STANLEY’. Of course, Richie didn’t pay much mind to the name of his neighbor or the fact that it wasn’t the name of someone he knew, instead, he watched sadly as Jimmy took his seat on the opposite end of the room, next to Betty Ripsom. The pair exchanged a sorrowful glance, that only lasted until Richie’s attention was taken by his new desk buddy taking his seat. 

“Your hands are dirty,” Were the first words out of Stanley’s mouth, before a hello even crossed his mind. 

Richie looked down, and sure enough, his hands were covered in a thin layer of dirt. He rubbed them together, although it didn’t do much to actually clean them - evident by the disappointed look on Stanley’s face. “I was looking for worms,” Richie explained, and Stanley didn’t look any happier about that. 

“You won’t find any until it rains. Unless you were a bird,” 

Richie blinked behind his thick glasses, but Stanley must’ve been right. Birds were the only ones that Richie ever saw with worms even when it hadn’t rained for weeks. He wondered what their secret was. 

“How is it that birds always always always catch their worms?” He asked, suddenly expecting Stanley to know that. 

“Birds actually have much better ears and eyes than people. They can see and hears the worms even when we can’t.” Stanley explained, and Richie thought that when he talked, he talked like a grown-up, and he decided very quickly that he liked talking to Stanley. 

“I’m Richie.” He introduced himself, instead of continuing on with his spree of questions related to birds. 

“I see that.” Stanley looked over at Richie’s name tag. “I’m Stanley.” He said anyways, despite the fact that Richie’s gaze had moved over to his name tag. “But you can just call me Stan.” 

“Stan the Man!” Richie spoke, without a second thought - and for the first time since they met, Stan smiled. “Why haven’t I met you before?” Richie inquired, without much of a pause between his words. 

“My family just moved here from Chamberlain. My mom got a ‘job transfer’” The way he spoke about it, it was evident that he was repeating something that he had been told. “They needed a new teacher at the middle school, and my mom’s the best teacher in the world.” 

Richie’s eyes went wide, as he completely believed every word of it. “Wow. That’s so cool!” 

Richie didn’t know it at the time, but it was that conversation that would lead him to becoming best friends with Stanley Uris, and later, the rest of the Losers’ Club. Slowly, Jimmy would become less and less of a priority for him, and by the time they were on winter break, Richie was spending every other night at the Uris house. And neither of them would have it any other way.

* * *

**July 13th, 1986 - Stanley Uris’ House - Derry, Maine**

Ten-years-old was a pretty big birthday, and Stan intended to not only celebrate it with his family, but with Richie, Eddie, and Bill too. Of course, over the past couple of years, Richie, Eddie, and Bill had pretty much become family too. His parents welcomed the three other boys into their lives with open arms and treated them as though they were their own children. 

Richie received the brunt of that treatment, not because of any particular reason, but because he was at the Uris house almost as much as he was at his own house, and likewise with Stan. Over the past four years, the two had been practically joint at the hip to the point where Donald joked, more than once, that Richie was going to have to get his own room. 

But, today was not that day. Today was all about Stanley. Richie had slept over the night before his birthday, and forced himself to stay awake till midnight. It was hard, around 11pm it became nearly impossible to keep his eyes open, and even harder with the fact that Stan was already sound asleep on the floor next to him (They always slept in sleeping bags in the basement), so Richie turned the TV on, and turned the volume about as low as it could go. He had to sit about three inches away from it to be able to hear the sound, but the informarcials at least helped keep him awake until the clock on the wall struck midnight. 

And when it did, all hell broke loose. 

Richie had absolutely no inhibitions when it came to waking up Stan, not a single one! He jumped up from his spot, and blasted the sound on the TV as loud as it could go. That was quick to get Stan awake. 

“Richie what’re you-” 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY STAN THE MAN!” Richie shouted from the top of his lungs. 

Upstairs, Donald and Andrea were thankfully not roused from their sleep. But, that didn’t stop Stan from immediately chiming in with- 

“Beep Beep Richie,” But he was grinning either way. And Richie was too. Sure, he was losing his best joke material that for the past four months and six days he had been in his _double-digits_ while Stan was only nine! But, he was still more than happy to celebrate Stan’s birthday with him, no matter what Richie was losing. 

“Are you seriously beeping my happy birthday?” Richie was laughing anyways, and in a moment, he was tackling Stan down to the ground, engulfing him in a tight hug with a bright grin on his face. “You know what this means?” 

Stan, who had been squirming and trying to get out of Richie’s death-grip, knew _exactly_ what this meant. And he didn’t like it one bit, oh no no no no- 

“One! Two! Three! Four!” Each number was punctuated with a playful punch to his shoulder, stomach, back, anywhere Richie could reach. They didn’t hurt, of course, Richie would never actually try to hurt Stan, but he didn’t like them anyways. 

“Richie!” 

“Five! Six!” 

“Stop it! You ass!” 

“Seven!” 

“You’re the WORST!” 

“Eight!” 

“I hate you!” 

“Nine!” 

“RICHIE-” 

“Annnnnnd _Ten!_!” The last one was a light smack on the back of Stan’s head, which he really didn’t appreciate. But, Richie released him after that, scrambling away to dig through his bag for something. 

“I wanted to wait for Bill and Eds first, but…” Richie presented him with a neatly wrapped box. Stan knew that Maggie must’ve wrapped it, but Richie evidently wrote the tag on the gift that read ‘STAN THE MAN’ in alternating colors. He smiled. 

“Thank you, Richie.” 

“Go on! Open it already!” 

Stan didn’t hesitate. Carefully, he peeled apart the paper, making an effort not to rip it, something which evidently bothered Richie by the way that he set his jaw as he watched Stan, but he elected not to say anything and let Stan carefully open it up. The gift was revealed to be a new pair of binoculars, which made his eyes widen and his jaw drop, although it only lasted a moment before a broad grin grew on his face. 

“Richie is this for real?” 

“Of course it’s for real! Do you like them? My dad said they should be really good. But I don’t really know for sure… We should go try them out tomorrow! Today? Before Bill and Eds show up! There’s always those birds in the bird bath in the morning, right? I bet you’d be able to see them great in those things.” Richie rambled a little, but he was just excited to see that Stan was excited about the gift. It was all he could’ve wanted out of this gift. 

“Thank you, Richie. I love it!” 

Stan was always more formal with these things, and it didn’t bother Richie one bit. In fact, he found it incredibly endearing. Stan was his best friend in the whole world, and he always would be, and even if he didn’t express his excitement with the same bright shouts and colorful language that Richie did; Richie still saw that brightness in his eyes and knew he was elated.

* * *

**August 28th, 1989 - Richie Tozier’s Bedroom - Derry, Maine**

It had been the hardest summer of any of their lives, and not one of them was dealing with it well. Stan, most notably, had more or less completely shut down. Some days were better than others. Some days, no one would get Stan to come out of his bedroom. He’d hole up in there, wrapped up in his blankets, the bandages around his face being the only thing visible from the door. He wouldn’t even get up to refill his bird feeders or to head out to Temple with his family. It was always the hardest to see him like that. 

Thankfully, today was one of his better days, and Richie had convinced him to come over for a while. 

So, there they laid. Each on one end of Richie’s bed and staring up at the ceiling as the sweet sounds of the B-52s filled the room. 

_Jerking motions won't revive him_   
_Mouth to mouth resuscitation_   
_I just lay down beside him_   
_And idolize_

It was one of Richie’s favourite albums, and he let it distract them both for the moment. And it seemed to be working too. Stan was laying silently, his head propped up beside Richie’s feet with a couple of pillows. His eyes were shut, and Richie could see that he was breathing steadily - something that provided him with a soothing sense of relief. He was going to be just fine, and that was all Richie needed to know. He needed to be certain that Stan was going to be okay. 

The moment, however, was fleeting. 

“Richie?” 

“Mmm?” 

“Sometimes, I wish IT had killed me.” 

The words made Richie’s mouth go dry, and suddenly, Stan was very much not okay. He sat up quickly, a million thoughts buzzing around his mind, and yet, he couldn’t say a single one of them. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Stan hadn’t even opened his eyes, but he could imagine the look on Richie’s face. “I’m not… I don’t want to kill myself, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Richie’s shoulders relaxed, just the slightest bit. “Just… IT… IT took so much away from me. Away from us. It did this to me,” He motioned vaguely to his face. “It’s almost like… Having to live with all of this, the lies, the memories, the scars… It’s _worse_ than being dead.” 

Richie would like to pretend that he understood what Stan meant by that. But he couldn’t imagine a fate worse than death. In his mind, Richie was positive that he was going to live forever. And why wouldn’t he? Who’s to say that in ten, twenty, even thirty years time they wouldn’t unlock the secrets to immortality? Richie would take the shot at living forever. 

“I’m sorry, Stan,” He finally spoke. The air around them felt heavy, and suddenly, he couldn’t hear the sound of the music around them anymore. It was still playing, he knew it was still playing, but it was just a dull buzzing in the background of Stan’s words. 

“Don’t be sorry. It was no one’s fault… It’s just… This is hard. This is so fucking hard and I don’t know how to make it better. I hate not knowing how to make it better.” 

He couldn’t see it, as Stan was refusing to open his eyes, but Richie could hear it. He could _feel_ it. Stan was crying. And Richie did the only thing he could, he pulled Stan up and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Stan leaned into it, his head pressed against Richie’s shoulder - and Richie still couldn’t see it, but he felt the shoulder of his shirt dampen. But he didn’t say anything, he merely held Stan close to him and rubbed his back methodically; up and down up and down up and down…. 

He didn’t know how long it was until either of them spoke again, but the record had definitely stopped playing, and Stan had pulled back from him, deciding that they should get out of there and go do something. Richie suggested the arcade, and Stan eagerly agreed. He hadn’t been to the arcade since the end of the school year, and now, they were about to enter _high school_. 

The rest of the evening went a lot better. At around nine p.m they stumbled back into the Tozier house, talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at once. 

After that, Stan didn’t hide out in his room anymore. One week later, they started high school and things were so, so much better.

* * *

**April 10th, 2007 - Starbucks Coffee - New York City, New York**

“Richie? Sir? Your coffee-” 

The barista was holding out to him, and there was a look of concern on his face. Richie wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, but it obviously hadn’t been as long as it felt. A piece of him had come back in the form of Stanley Uris, and while Richie felt more complete, there was still so many questions he had. 

_(What was it? What was IT? What happened to Stan’s face? Didn’t we say it was something with a raccoon.. But that was a lie? Was it? God, it fucking sounds like a lie. But then what really happened? IT…. IT…. Fuck, what the fuck was IT? The clown. No. No, not the clown. There was no clown. There was no clown.)_

“Richie?” 

The kid had spoke up again, and that was the moment where Richie came out of his daze. He blinked, and rubbed his eyes. “Shit, sorry kid… Outta my mind over here.” He let his usual lazy grin spread across his face as he accepted the cup from the kid. “Didn’t get a enough sleep, apparently. Guess I need this more than I thought.” 

The kid gave a forced chuckle. 

Richie let his eyes drop to the kids name tag - _Kyle_

_(What the fuck were you expecting? It’s not Stanley, dumbass.)_

From his wallet, he retrieved a fifty. “Have a good day, Kyle. Buy yourself something nice,” Richie instructed, before he raised the coffee up to his lips and took a long drink. It was rich and bitter, just as he had hoped. 

“Are… Are you serious?” Kyle asked, looking down at the bill in his hands with evident surprise. 

“Go nuts.” Richie beamed, before turning to head out without another word. As he reached the door, he heard Kyle speak again. 

“Thank you!”

* * *

**April 15th, 2007 - Times Square - New York City, New York**

Five days ago had been a turning point in Richie’s day-to-day life. His meeting with the SNL staff had gone extremely well, and the job had been indirectly promised with an honest grin and the words “We’ll be in touch with your agent,” which had proved to be true as the next day, Helen had called Richie and their professional relationship was reconciled. 

As soon as he had gotten home, he had written down the name Stanley Uris at least 50 times, to ensure that he wouldn’t forget it ever again. Fuck, how the hell had he forgotten his best friend? His memories of Stan had all come back, and it was crazy how much more complete he felt. Richie hadn’t even realized he had felt empty until he remembered Stan. He had also looked him up too, and what he found made his heart swell. Stan was living down in Atlanta, Georgia these days. He was a successful accountant and he was happily married to a beautiful woman named Patricia. She was an artist and museum curator and in every picture, Richie could see the light in Stan’s eyes, like the day that he had got him those binoculars. There was no question that he was happy, and that made Richie happy too. 

And he remembered the others too. He remembered Bill, and Ben, and Bev, and Mike too but… Nothing specific. He knew they existed; and that was that. That was enough for now. Frankly, he didn’t want to get hit with a tidal wave of memories all at once like he had been when he remembered Stan… But he wouldn’t be so lucky. 

Beverly Marsh came to him in the form of Audra Phillips, up on a billboard. It was an advertisement for the new movie she was in and Richie couldn’t help but look at her and see the face of-

* * *

**April 29th, 1989 - Outside the Aladdin - Derry, Maine**

Beverly Marsh, sitting on the bench in front of the store and playing with a yo-yo. Richie hadn’t spoken to Beverly much before, he had just known her practically his whole life. That’s what happens when you live in a place like Derry, seeming the same exact people every single day for your whole life. But Richie had his friends, and she had hers. 

Or, he thought so up until now. It had never occurred to him before, but he rarely saw Beverly hanging out with the other girls at school. Curious, he dropped himself down onto the bench next to her - which unsurprisingly, surprised her. 

“Richie?” 

“Miss Marsh,” The edge of formality in his tone was out of pure amusement, and he grinned towards her. Beverly grinned back, and she was quick to play along. She pulled her yo-yo back up and set it on her lap. 

“Mr Tozier, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Beverly asked, straightening her back and gaining a sort of business-like tone. Richie was absolutely living for it. 

“Well, Miss Marsh,” His tone had shifted slightly, a note of a horrible British accent now evident. “I was just on my way to go and see Pet Sematary at the lovely cinema just behind us. Course, my friends are all bloody chicken and wouldn’t come see it with me,” Actually, the three other boys were just busy - and Richie wouldn’t hold that against them. “Perhaps you would like to come and see it with me?” 

A gasp escaped her, evidently fabricated. “Mr Tozier are you attempting to court me?” 

“I believe I might, love. What do you say?” 

For a moment, Beverly let the charade drop. “It would be fun, but I don’t have any money.” A small frown settled on her lips. 

From his pocket, Richie drew a crisp ten-dollar bill. “Don’t you worry, love. Mr Hamilton here has us covered.” Richie paused, letting the smile grow on Beverly’s face, and basking in it. He thought she had a beautiful smile. He let the accent drop. “Besides, wouldn’t be a proper date if I didn’t pay for it, right?” 

Beverly wasn’t entirely sure if this was a real date, and if it was, she wasn’t entirely sure if she was interested in dating Richie. But going out to the movies was fun, and having a friend was something else that was fun that Beverly had very little experience in. She decided it would be stupid to turn him down right now. “Then, I guess it’s a date.” Beverly declared. 

And what a date it was. Richie bought the tickets from the uncaring teenager selling them, and he even treated her to a large bag of popcorn for them to share. Beverly was pleasantly surprised at the course of the date, and she was having quite a fun time too. For a movie that was supposed to scare them, they sure spent a lot of time laughing. Although, that was mostly thanks to the ridiculous jokes Richie kept cracking. Beverly thought he might’ve been the funniest kid in the world. 

She’d stand by that claim, even when Henry Bowers stood up a few rows ahead of them and whipped a full pack of licorice at them. It hit Richie square the face. 

“Would you both shut the fuck up!?” Henry demanded. 

While Beverly was perfectly content to lower herself down in her seat and take heed of his unspoken warning, Richie was not. Proud as ever, he stood up and tossed the half-bag of popcorn back towards him. “Suck on that, Bowers!” Richie shouted back, and without a moment of hesitation, he found his hand in Beverly’s and pulled her out of her seat, rushing to get the hell out of the theatre. And rightly so, Bowers and his gang were quick to try and chase after them. 

Richie and Beverly were both laughing as they raced up the aisle of the theatre, Richie pushing the door to the outside open and pulling Beverly through. It shut behind them, and they only got a few yards away before Richie heard it open again. He spared a glance over his shoulder towards Henry Bowers, who had some popcorn in his hair. 

“Mush, Miss!” It was a strange moment between the two. Each of them catching their breath and staring at one another as they gathered themselves together. Richie made the first move, he stepped towards Beverly and leaned into her. She leaned in too, and their lips met in the middle. 

They stilled as they were. Eyes shut, hand in hand, and connected at the mouth. It must’ve lasted about five seconds, and Richie wondered if first kisses were supposed to feel like… Well, nothing. 

He’d later learn that was not the case. 

He blinked his eyes open, and he stared at Beverly. She stared back. A three second beat passed between them and again - they were laughing. Neither of them said it, but they both knew it. This was absolutely _not_ a first date. And neither of them regretted that. Beverly was mighty pretty, sure, but Richie didn’t care about that. He had found a new friend on that day, and that was much better than his first kiss. 

“Marsh! Mush!” 

Beverly wasn’t a sled dog, but she took his instruction anyways. Side-by-side and gripping each other’s hands as though their lives depended on it, they ran down the streets of downtown Derry, laughing at their situation and glancing over their shoulders towards Henry and his goons, only seeming to get further and further behind them. Certainly, they were shouting curses and threats, but neither Beverly or Richie could hear them over the wind in their ears or the laughter spilling from their lips. 

Beverly willingly let Richie guide her, and he seemed to have a plan as he dragged her down under the Kissing Bridge, the water from the Kenduskeag Stream lapped at their feet and soaked their shoes, and while it was uncomfortable, Beverly made no complaint. 

“One hell of a first date, wasn’t it?” The laughter that came from Richie was breathless, and with rosy cheeks and a bright grin, he didn’t let go of Beverly’s hand. She didn’t step away either.

* * *

**August 23rd, 1989 - Under the Kissing Bridge - Derry, Maine**

 

Over the summer, the spot under the Kissing Bridge had become theirs. Richie and Beverly would meet there and sit under the dry spot at the bank, they’d take off their shoes and socks and dip their feet into the water and let the stream pass over them. Between them, they’d share Winston’s and shoot the shit and talk and laugh. Beverly always laughed at Richie’s jokes, and he always had more to tell. 

Today was different. 

Beverly was set to leave the very next day, moving out to Portland with her aunt. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but it would be the last time they sat under that place. 

Richie sat with his knees up and his arms resting over them. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips and the smoke filtering steadily out of his slightly open mouth. Beverly sat next to him, her legs cross and her knee brushing his thigh. One of her hands was idly tossing pebbles into the river while the other held her cigarette a couple of inches from her face while she exhaled. 

“Remember the first time we came here?” Richie asked her. 

Beverly laughed, nodding along. “Of course I do. How could I forget my first kiss?” She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow. 

“Do you think I should tell Bill about that?” The kiss they had shared at the quarry the previous day was no secret, and Richie was rather tempted to hold the fact that he had managed to kiss Beverly Marsh first over Bill’s head - just to get the reaction out of him. 

She snorted, laughing still. “I mean, if you want. Just as long as you’re honest about how awful it was.” 

“Awful? You thought it was awful?” 

“You thought it was good?” 

Even Richie couldn’t keep a straight face at that, and like usual, the two of them fell into laughter. They rested their heads together, staring at the stream as it came past them. Richie lazily wrapping his arms around Beverly’s shoulders and she put out her cigarette before flicking the butt into the water. 

“I’m gonna miss you, Rich.” 

“I’ll miss you too, Bev.” 

For a few moments, they were silent. And that was okay. Neither was uncomfortable and they just leaned into each other, individually reminiscing about the time they had spent under the Kissing Bridge together. Richie wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed, but soon, Beverly broke their silence. 

“Do you think IT will come back?” 

Beverly already knew the answer to that question. It was a resounding yes. She saw it coming back. She saw the future, and the feeling of the seven of them all gathered together again to face the monster again. She hoped it wouldn’t happen for a third time, but she wasn’t so sure. 

“Yeah,” Richie answered her, giving a slight nod. “I do. I don’t think… I don’t think it’ll ever leave us alone.” 

“Yeah.” Beverly paused again, swallowing thickly. “Can I tell you something, Richie?” 

The tone in her voice was surprising. Beverly was a good friend, sure, but they had never quite been confidants for each other. That wasn’t the friendship that they had. And that was okay. But, he wasn’t going to deny her request either. 

“Of course.” 

And again, she was quiet for a while. Richie didn’t push her for answers, like he normally would’ve. He waited in the swollen silence for her to speak. He didn’t notice the tears brimming in her eyes. “I lied to you guys,” She said at first. “IT….” His chest tightened. “IT didn’t kill my dad. I did.” 

Richie blinked. And he laughed. It was a sort of nervous laughter, one of uncertainty. “You’re kidding,” Her silence told him enough. “You’re not kidding,” His laughter died down, and Richie was silent now, he turned his gaze towards her, studying her. 

“What-” 

“Are you-” 

They spoke at the same time, and both stopped their train of thought. “You first,” Richie told her. 

“Are you scared of me?” 

“Never,” He kept his arm around her, as though to prove that he wasn’t afraid. She took comfort in it, and leaned into his embrace. “Can you tell me what happened?” 

The prolonged lapse of silence was one that he had expected. “It wasn’t the first time he… Had tired something like that. Normally it didn’t go that far.” Richie had no idea on what that could possibly mean. Beverly swallowed thickly. “He tried to… Touch me.” 

The lightbulb went off in his head, and for the first time in his life, Richie had absolutely no idea what to say. Beverly was really crying then, her eyes refusing to look at Richie even as she pressed herself against his side. “I told him he couldn’t. But he kept trying. I ran into the bathroom and… He came after me. He wasn’t going to stop. So I took the… the lid of the toilet tank and-” She couldn’t finish that sentence, a sob wracking through her. And she didn’t need to either, Richie got the picture. 

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think there was anything he could say. He wrapped both of his arms around her and cradled her close to him. “You’re okay now, Bev… You didn’t do anything wrong.” Richie decided to tell her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You protected yourself, and that’s not a bad thing. In fact, I think it’s about the most badass thing I’ve ever heard. Beverly Marsh: Man Killer.” 

It wasn’t the best timed joke, but it worked nonetheless. A feeble laugh escaped her. 

“Ah, there she is. She’s laughing! That’s how I know she’s still alive, folks. That’s a laugh that could cure cancer, ya hear?” 

And it worked, Richie kept up the act and Beverly kept laughing. Soon, the tears dried away on her cheeks and this time, sitting with him, felt the same as any other. They were both happy. They were both safe. 

“Guess I gotta get going,” The sun was starting to set, and it wouldn’t be long until it was dark. “I’ll see you around, Mr Tozier.” Beverly stood up. 

Richie mirrored the action, and wrapped his arms tight around her middle, lifting her up. Beverly let out a squeal, and made no attempt to stop him. “I’ll miss you, Miss Marsh! My gal! My love! My one and only! My darling!”

“Oh, beep beep Richie.”

* * *

**April 15th, 2007 - Times Square - New York City, New York**

Richie was taken out of his daze of remembering Beverly Marsh when someone bumped into him. And it was only a matter of time, seeing as he was stuck staring at the billboard of Audra Phillips in the middle of Times Square. The person didn’t apologize, and just carried on, and Richie didn’t say anything either, simply returning to getting on his way again. 

Yes, it had been Beverly who killed her father… Not the monster… Suddenly, it was seeming more real again. He couldn’t picture the mysterious IT no matter how hard he tried. In his head, he could still hear Eddie insisting that he was crazy, that none of it was real, but these new memories coming back to him seemed to say otherwise. Why else would Beverly confess to a literal murder? What else could’ve torn Stan’s face apart like that? Richie certainly didn’t have any other explanations. 

Something happened in the summer of 1989, and while Richie hadn’t gotten all the pieces back together… He was close. He was so _fucking_ close.

* * *

**April 17th, 2007 - Richie’s Records - New York City, New York**

Beverly Marsh joined Stan’s name in having been written out a dozen times to burn it into his mind. The new pair of memories lead to others becoming a bit less hazy. It wasn’t much, of course, everything was still a jumbled mess in his head but now he had Eddie and Stan and Beverly and in some ways… He was happy with just the three of them. 

Richie had also come to the conclusion that he couldn’t force the memories back. They would come to him when the time was right, and when he was supposed to get them. And perhaps it was better that way. He thought he might completely overwhelm himself if he tried to remember too much, too fast. 

So, instead, Richie kept himself busy at work. With the light in the stockroom changed he decided things needed to be cleaned out in there. With the help of another one of his crew members, Logan, he was sorting through the different boxes. 

“Richie?” She said, bringing down a box from the shelf. “There’s like, a ton of magazines in here? Do you want me to throw them out?” 

Which was a fair question, but Richie was curious. Maybe there was something good in there, like a Playboy or Sports Illustrated. Lord knows he could use some sort of _relief_ with everything going on. “Let me see it,” Richie requested, reaching out to take the box. He sat down with it and started to flip through it. 

He had been looking for relief, something to ease his mind - and he got the exact opposite. He hadn’t expected to find a copy of TIME magazine, but there it was, with the handsome smiling face of Ben Hanscom staring up at him. Richie stared at the cover, his mouth agape and new memories washed over him.

* * *

**June 25th, 1989 - The alley beside Keene’s Pharmacy - Derry, Maine**

“I’m glad I got to meet you before you died,” 

Ben stared up at him with a look that Richie could only describe as disappointment and confusion. Sure, despite Eddie’s worries, all of them were pretty well convinced that Ben was going to live. He was going to have a pretty fucking gnarly scar left behind, but hey, maybe that would help him get a girl or something. Make him seem badass. At least, that was what Richie was thinking. He decided he didn’t want to just… Say that to Ben. He knew his jokes weren’t always received well and while normally he wouldn’t have given a shit about what this guy thought, it felt wrong to mess with him right now, not when he clearly wasn’t doing well. 

So, instead, Richie leaned against the brick wall next to him. “Bowers is a dick.” He stated plainly. 

“I noticed,” Ben responded dryly, his gaze filtering back up to Richie again, and Richie took the look almost as a challenge. He was going to make this better for him one way or another. 

“What I mean is… He’s beyond a dick. Seriously fucked up in the head or something. One of these days he’s gonna land himself in Juniper and it’ll all be over for us. But for now, we’re stuck with his fucking psycho bullshit. But we’re _all_ stuck with it. You’re in this with us, Haystack.” 

The nickname slipped without Richie thinking too much of it - but God, did he love it. A grin spread across his face as he looked towards Ben. And maybe he was imagining things, but he could’ve sworn that he saw Ben smile back. 

“Does he do this to you guys too?” He asked, motioning vaguely towards his stomach. 

“Can’t say he’s carved anyone up quite like that, but last year he broke my nose.” Richie rubbed the side of his nose, which was still slightly crooked from the break. “And three years ago he shoved Stan’s face into a snowbank and scrubbed his face with the snow until he bled,” He shuddered at that one. That wasn’t a favourable memory. “That one was really messy... “ Richie shrugged a little. “We’ve all gotten our fair share of Bower’s Beatings, and one of these days-” Richie swung his fist wildly. “We’ll get him back!” 

Ben wasn’t at all convinced that someone as scrawny as Richie could do anything to get Henry Bowers back, but the suggestion alone did make him smile. Not because they’d be beating up Henry, but because he’d be doing it with someone else - the fact that it implied that Ben would be included with them was enough to make his heart swell. 

Suddenly, the wound on his stomach hurt just a little bit less. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

“See about it? Oh no, Haystack. You will see it! I swear it! Henry Bowers won’t know what hit him! I tell ya!” There was an edge of a southern accent that Richie couldn’t seem to get quite right, but his rants about fighting Henry were unceremoniously cut off by Eddie, Stan, and Bill rejoining them in the alley. 

“Holy shit, did you rob a bank or something?” Richie asked, looking at the variety of supplies they had brought. 

“No, we robbed the pharmacy,” Eddie answered, dismissing Richie’s questioning as he dropped down to his knees to start working on patching Ben up. Richie didn’t argue him on that, and instead, decided to egg Eddie on. 

“Suck the wound! Get in there!”

* * *

**July 15th, 1989 - The clubhouse by the quarry - Derry, Maine**

“I still can’t believe you fucking built this thing, Hanscom.” Today, it was just Richie and Ben hanging out in the clubhouse. Neither of them had seen Bill since the fight after they first went into Neibolt, and Richie personally didn’t care too. Not until he stepped up and apologized. Stan was grounded after his lashing out at his Bar Mitzvah, Eddie was still on house arrest, and Beverly knew they’d be there but she wasn’t so sure if she was going to show up or not yet. She was the only one still talking to Bill, and none of them had it in them to fault her for that. Richie had lit a cigarette and for the moment, they left the roof open to filter out the smoke. They didn’t think they were in any danger at the moment - but who knew if Bowers and his gang would decide to show up? 

“I didn’t build it myself,” Ben was quick to remind him. He’d never take credit for the clubhouse on his own. “You guys all helped.” 

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t have come up with it, or done it right without you.” Richie reminded him. 

The clubhouse was really something to marvel. Four feet deep and about six feet by two feet on the inside, it was a bit squishy for the group of them, but it was a miracle of a place nonetheless. It was certainly a unique hideout in the ground, and the roof over it blended in nearly perfectly with the dirt surrounding it meaning if they didn’t know it was there, no one would notice it. 

Ben couldn’t argue with that, even though it looked like he was really trying. “At least it gets warm in here.” 

Richie would agree - was nice to leave the roof open for a while and let the scrap metal that held up the walls gather up some heat from the sun and keep them comfortable in there. It would cool down pretty quick once they closed the lid. Richie stood up, aiming to put out his cigarette and relax with Ben a little while longer, but it would seem that their worst fear was going to come true. Distantly, he could hear Bowers. “Ah, fuck.” He tossed his smoke and grabbed the lid. He pulled it over harshly and it banged as it hit the lip of the metal wall. Richie dropped himself down, he and Ben staring at each other in the dim light filtered through from the roof and held their breaths. 

“Did you hear that?” It was Belch who said it, stepping over in the direction of fort. 

“I don’t fucking care, Belch. We need to find my knife.” Henry insisted. He had yet to tell his father that his prized weapon was missing. 

Someone, Victor Criss, Richie assumed, huffed and started to look with Henry. Belch must’ve stayed close, as Ben and Richie could hear him just nearby, lazily kicking around the dirt. 

He stepped onto the roof, and Richie’s eyes turned impossibly wide beneath his glasses. The wood bent under his weight the slightest bit, and a small amount of dirt tumbled down. 

“It’s not going to be here, Bowers.” Belch spoke. 

“Would you shut the fuck up and at least look?” Henry snapped back at him. Belch grumbled, and stepped away. Richie let out the smallest exhale that he could. 

Ben looked about ready to piss himself. 

The silence between them was heavy as the Bowers Gang continued to search around the area for a knife they didn’t seem to find. Luck would appear to be on the side of Ben and Richie, as none of them came near the fort again. Richie would never be entirely sure of how much time had passed before they left and leaving Ben and Richie safe, but if he had to make his best guess it would’ve been at least a half an hour and then some, as even when they heard them walking away and their voices fell into silence, the boys waited a few minutes longer before they even dared to speak. 

“Talk about a near-death experience,” Richie, as usual, immediately went into joking. And Ben laughed. For the first time, he really laughed at one of Richie’s jokes. Richie couldn’t help but to laugh along. 

Sunlight came back at full force as the roof was opened and Beverly’s face blinked down at them. 

“Holy shit,” 

Bev dropped down into the hole to join them, and her and Richie, as usual, shared some cigarettes as they went over what happened. About half way through their search, Beverly had come down and hid in a bush while she waited for them to leave. She hadn’t any idea on how Belch had gotten so close, but she was just as relieved that they didn’t get caught. 

It was also the strangest bonding experience for Ben and Richie. Who knew you could feel so much closer to a person after sitting in silence together for so long? But Richie never questioned it much. They had both been scared, and they had had the luck to survive alone. He considered it to be a god damned miracle. And miracles seemed to come easily to Ben Hanscom.

* * *

**April 17th, 2007 - Richie’s Records - New York City, New York**

_(You’re going to be just fine, Richie. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. You’re going to do great things. I can already see it. Your name in lights!-)_

“Richie?” 

_(-Tozier! Performing for one night only at Madison Square Garden. Which you obviously sold out. And then you’ll perform in the concert hall I’ll design in L.A… Or Chicago… Or London! Who knows! But you’ll be there! You’ll be right there, Richie Tozier and-)_

“Ben Hanscom?” Logan asked again - and that was the words that finally pulled Richie out of his daze. But he could still hear the encouraging words from Ben echoing in his mind. The things he said the last time Richie saw him, back before he moved home. “I guess he’s cute, but not cute enough to distract you like that. You feeling okay?” Logan kept it casual, but Richie could tell she was worried. 

“He’s not just cute, Logan. He’s the youngest Architect to add to the New York City skyline. Look, this was three years ago… God, he would’ve only been twenty-four when he designed….” Richie flipped through the magazine, looking for the article. “Oh. I guess that’s not really the skyline… That’s not even really in New York. He designed the Westchester Amphitheatre… The biggest outdoor concert hall in the state,” Which was still impressive. Richie let out a whistle. 

“Oh, that is pretty cool.” Logan gave her approval. “I saw Fall Out Boy there last summer.” She added thoughtfully, going back to organizing and labelling boxes like she was doing before. “What’s got you so interested in the architect?” The conversation was casual, but Logan’s expression only showed curiosity. 

Richie glanced down at the page again. Ben had given an interview. 

_I always wanted to build a performance centre. A couple of my friends growing up had been performers and I always wanted to build somewhere that they could play. So, when this opportunity was presented to me it was like a dream come true._ Ben had said, and Richie couldn’t help but smile. He set the magazine aside, wanting to read more later. 

“Oh, no reason.” Richie finally answered Logan. “I just used to go to school with the guy.. But I barely knew him.” 

The lie was easy, and Logan was sold on it. Richie continued to filter through the magazines (he found a couple of Playboy’s like he had wanted) and set them aside with the TIME magazine, and brought the small stack up to his room once he and Logan were done. The rest of his day carried on as normal, the memories of Ben being warm and comforting. In his head, everything started to make more sense. The puzzle wasn’t quite there; not yet, but he was so close he could practically taste it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it! part two is complete and just needs to be edited and will be up in a couple of days!! as always, thank you for reading and be sure to comment and tell me what you think! thank you!


	4. step three: connect the dots (part two.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie remembers. (part 2.)

**April 20th, 2007 - New York City Public Library - New York City, New York**

Taking 4/20 off had lead to his crew in having a field day in making fun of him. He had told them he was meeting with the writing team from SNL, which was only half a lie. That meeting wasn’t until later in the day. He could’ve easily stuck around for the morning to work with them, but instead, Richie found himself entering the doors of the library. Now with Eddie, Stan, Bev, and Ben being solid memories, he needed to try and put the rest of the pieces together, and he figured he better start with Derry itself. 

The library was bigger than he had expected it to be, and truth be told, Richie hadn’t set foot in a library since college. He had absolutely no idea where to start. 

He did the logical thing - approaching the first library employee he spotted. A young woman filing away books from a cart in the non-fiction section. 

“Excuse me,” Richie began. “Where would I find books about the histories of small towns in Maine?” He realized that was a very particular subject area, as did the woman. She smiled slightly towards him, and thought for a moment. 

“Let me help you with that.” Evidently, searching for a book was more interesting than putting them away. She started to lead him away, down through the aisles and Richie willingly followed her. “What town are we looking for?” She asked. 

“Derry… It’s part of Penobscot County. Just a couple miles out of Bangor.” As if the girl would known the area. She lead him up a wide set of stairs onto the second floor of the library, and down a couple more aisles until she stopped. The shelves were stacked high, but she began to look around. 

“Derry, Maine in Penobscot County…” She hummed to herself, starting to look over the shelves. Richie followed her lead and started to look over the other side. 

There was more books on Maine than he had ever expected. Dozens relating to Portland, and seemingly tons for the whole state. He pulled one out, flipping through to see if there was anything on Derry - but the section on Penobscot County only seemed to mention the other towns before giving full-detail on Bangor. Not quite what he needed. Richie put it back on the shelf. 

In relative silence, the pair searched for a while longer. It must’ve taken about ten minutes before the woman spoke up again, pulling a book from the shelf. “Here’s one on Penobscot County.” It was an older book, by the looks of it. She turned to offer it towards him, and Richie all but snatched it out of her hands, flipping to look through the table of contents. 

 

**PENOBSCOT COUNTY: A HISTORY**

 

_Introduction ……… 5_  
 _Alton, Town of ……… 8_   
_Bangor, City of ……… 12_  
 _Bradford, Town of ……… 18_  
 _Bradley, Town of ……… 21_  
 _Brewer, City of ……… 25_  
 _Burlington, Town of ……… 32_  
 _Carmel, Town of ……… 35_  
 _Charleston, Town of ……… 39_  
 _Chester, Town of ……… 43_  
 _Clifton, Town of ……… 46_  
 _Corinna, Town of ……… 50_  
 _Corinth, Town of ……… 52_  
 _Derry, Town of ……… 57_

Page 57 - Richie didn’t bother scanning through the rest of the books contents and instead flipped rapidly to that page. “Thank you,” He said to the woman, before he got too absorbed into it. “Thank you so much… What’s your name?” 

“Taylor.” Despite the behaviour Richie would’ve described as rude, the woman seemed about as chipper as ever. 

“Thank you so much, Taylor. You’re the best.” He gave her an appreciative pat on the shoulder, before he headed off to find himself a table to sit down and read. 

The very first entry was a story Richie already knew. The trail of bloody clothes leading to the Well House being the only sign of life after the town’s founders had disappeared without a trace. There was no real sign of an attack, other than that. And no one knew what happened. 

Mike Hanlon told them that story. Mike Hanlon knew every detail of Derry’s History. Every single grisly thing that stained the land; Mike knew about it. Richie flipped the page, and there was the Kitchener Iron Works, and then the remains from the explosion… Something else happened there- 

**July 7th, 1989 - Hanlon Farm - Derry, Maine**

His mother had fussed over the bruise left on his face from Bill punching him for the rest of the day. Alternating him between different bags of frozen vegetables and meats every 20 minutes and only when Richie insisted that he didn’t feel an ounce of pain the next day (a lie, but he was tired of smelling raw steak) did she relent. 

By the 7th, the bruise was going much better and Richie was positive he’d soon make a speedy recovery and be back to normal. 

Well, as normal as he could be without Bill. 

It wasn’t easy, and he didn’t want to think that he was _replacing_ Bill’s presence in his life with Mike, because Mike Hanlon was absolutely nothing like Bill Denbrough, but he found himself spending more and more time with him around the farm. And Richie liked being at the farm with him. 

He also found himself to be more interested in Derry’s history than he had initially believed. There he was, sat on the floor of Mike’s room, his back against the bed and the scrapbook that belonged to Mike’s father was open on his lap and he flipped through it. “There’s a lot about the Black Spot in here,” Richie noted. He wasn’t fishing for answers, merely making an observation - but Mike provided him with one anyway. 

“My dad was there when it happened.” He stated. The words were practiced, almost as though Mike had said it a dozen times before. “It’s… God, it’s awful that happened there. The people who did it weren’t even punished. Hell, they hardly even investigated because no one cared.” 

Richie didn’t ask why no one had cared. He knew why. 

He looked up towards Mike and found himself speechless. _I’m sorry_ didn’t seem quite right and _That’s fucking awful_ was pretty self-explanatory. Mike seemed to realize what Richie was thinking, and gave him a shrug. There was nothing either of them could do about it - but Mike appreciated Richie’s effort nonetheless. Richie looked back to the book, and flipped the page. 

The Kitchener Ironworks stared up at him. A before and after photo side-by-side, and an article from the tragedy beneath it. It looked the article was clipped out from a real newspaper of the incident some fifty-years prior, and Richie wondered how Mike’s dad got ahold of it. 

“I saw IT there.” Mike commented. Richie blinked, looking up towards him. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Mike confirmed with a nod. He rubbed his hand over his face and thought about it for a few moments longer. Like he was trying to get his story straight. “I was running from Bowers and his gang. They pretty much chased me into there… I had nowhere to really go. I just wanted to hide and hopefully just wait them out, you know? Get somewhere that they wouldn’t find me and hopefully they’d just… Give up?” Mike straightened up before dropping down to join Richie in sitting on the floor. “I went into a smoke stack. It was dirty inside, but it was pitch black. I went far enough in that I was positive the wouldn’t be able to see me. Even if they went inside. I could barely see my own hand in front of my face. I must’ve been in there for like.. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes just waiting them out. I couldn’t hear them but I was too scared to come out just yet. Then, I heard it. Something hitting the top of the stack. I didn’t know what it was, but it scared me. It was a couple of minutes later when I saw it. A bird.” 

Richie let out a small laugh at that - and Mike didn’t look _angry_ but rather, exhausted. He shook his head slightly. 

“You don’t understand Richie. This thing was the size of a house. It looked like a songbird but big enough to eat me like I was a worm. It leaned over to look into the smoke stack and I knew it could see me. It had to have seen me. Only, luckily, it couldn’t fit. But I was stuck. I was stuck and there was absolutely no other way out. So I was either stuck waiting for this monster bird who wanted to eat me to leave me alone… Or find some other way out. At first, I decided to just… Wait. See how long it could take but another twenty minutes later and I could still hear the bird walking back and forth on the smoke stack and then I realized… It could definitely wait me out longer than I could wait it out. So, I didn’t have another choice… I needed to do something.” 

“I gathered up a ton of bricks and debris. As much as I could carry in one arm, and started to head out. I guess the bird heard me… Or at least, that’s what I thought. It jumped down and blocked my way out. So, I did the only thing I could. I started throwing the bricks at it. It was a pretty big target, so most of them hit, but they didn’t really do anything to hurt it. Just pissed it off, really. It wasn’t until I got it right in the eye that I really started to make some progress. A couple more shots after that and I hit both eyes and took off running. I think it heard me, because it followed me a bit. But it was awkward. It didn’t know where I was, not really. So eventually… I got to my bike and hauled ass back home. I never told anyone about it… Until now. It didn’t really click with me that… It must be the clown until I met with you guys.” 

“Why did you tell me then?” Richie asked him curiously. 

“I guess I just wanted someone to believe me.” 

Richie nodded. Yeah, he could understand that much. He shut the book and wrapped his arm around Mike’s shoulders, giving him an affectionate squeeze. Anything to try and comfort and assure him, Richie would do. Mike leaned into him. 

“You’re safe now… And you’ve got us. We’ve got your back, Mike. You know you can tell us anything. Right?” 

Mike nodded. His head resting against Richie’s shoulder and he exhaled heavily. “I know. You’re right. I’m safe now… That bird wasn’t real and IT can’t hurt me.” 

IT can. IT had hurt Eddie. IT had taken Georgie… IT was still a very real threat to them and every other kid in Derry. But it wasn’t their responsibility to protect the town, right? Why should they be the ones to risk their lives fighting some demonic entity? What had they done to deserve that? 

Richie and Mike fell into a comfortable silence. Mike’s arm wrapping around Richie’s waist and they sat side-by-side. Each of them lost in their own thoughts, but each of them fairly positive they were on the same page. 

“Richie?” 

“Hm?” 

“We’ll have to go back, won’t we?” 

Richie didn’t like that question. Not one bit. He didn’t know how to answer that - no, he didn’t want to answer that. Because they both knew the answer and it was wrong and unfair and _scary._ Richie Tozier had never been afraid of anything before (or so he would claim) and suddenly this was coming out of left field and making him actually afraid. He felt his heart rate pick up in his chest. 

“Maybe.” He decided to choke out. His eyes falling shut as he tried to visualize any circumstance in which he’d go back to that hellish place. Unfortunately, he could imagine all too many. Bill apologizing. Any of their friends getting taken. A sign that Georgie might be alive. He himself getting taken by the clown. Bill asking him again. “I’m gonna fucking avoid it for all that I can but… I wouldn’t say it’s completely out of the question.” 

“Yeah.” Mike agreed. “Me too.”

* * *

**December 18th, 1991 - The Tozier House - Derry, Maine**

Mike’s father had died three weeks prior, and naturally, his mother wasn’t doing well. Richie knew full-well that Christmas wasn’t going to be happening in the Hanlon house and while he wouldn’t be able to take Mike away from his mother on that holiday, he’d make sure he at least got one decent Christmas dinner, and Maggie and Wentworth were in full agreeance with Richie on the matter, which was why Mike joined the family of four Toziers for Christmas dinner one week early. 

Richie’s elder sister, Veronica (Or Ronnie, as she preferred) had come home for Christmas from her first year of college that same day, meaning the spirit was even brighter in the Tozier family home. Mike almost felt as though he was intruding when he first heard, but as he arrived, he quickly started to feel at home, as though he were part of the family. 

While the Tozier’s weren’t particularly religious, they still respected Mike’s wishes to pray before the meal. Clasping hands around the dinner table and allowing him to lead in prayer. Most of it was Mike graciously thanking them for inviting him over, which all four of the Tozier’s insisted on him knowing that they were glad to celebrate with him. 

“You’ll always have a home with us, Mike. If things are ever too lonely up on that farm, you know you can come here.” Wentworth assured him around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “You’re a good kid. Keep Richie here in line.” 

“Oh shut up, dad.” Richie’s tone was lighthearted, and he and his father exchanged grins. 

“Please.” Ronnie rolled her eyes. “He’s Richie’s friend. He’s got to be just as much of a troublemaker as Richie.”

It hadn’t been an easy thing to get through for Mike, and Richie could see it written across his face. A strange mix of happiness and jealousy every time Wentworth spoke up, or Richie joked with his dad. Richie couldn’t blame him either. But, he said nothing on the subject all through dinner. He treated it as normal and waited until he and Mike were up in his room together before he addressed it. 

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, Mike.” Richie spoke to him quietly. Sitting next to him on the edge of his bed, their knees touching as the only connection between them. “And… I also realize how that might’ve been a hard thing to sit through. But I wanted you to know that you haven’t lost all of your family. I know like… I know no one can replace your dad, and I’m not trying to do that either. But I want you to know that we are your family. My parents will always be there if you need something, and Stan and Eddie too!” The four of them were the last ones left in Derry, and it wasn’t getting any less painful. “We love you, Mike. We’re your friends and… If your mom is struggling with holding up the farm and taking care of you and grieving her husband and if you ever need to get away from there for a while… You’re welcome here. Even if I’m at school or something! Mom works from home most of the time and you can just hang out in my room. It’s not a problem at all.” 

Tears brimmed in Mike’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. He reached up to wipe them clean and nodded along to Richie’s words. They were safe, and comforting and warm. Exactly what Mike needed to hear at the moment. He took in a breath, and before he knew it, he was catching Richie in a tight hug and squeezing him close. “Thank you.” Were the only words Mike managed to choke out. And they were all Richie needed to hear. He patted Mike on the back, squeezing him tightly in return. 

“Anytime, Homeschool.”

* * *

**April 20th, 2007 - New York City Public Library - New York City, New York**

He was still staring down at the picture of the Kitchener Ironworks when he remembered where he was. 

_(Mike Hanlon. How on Earth could you forget Mike Hanlon? Fuck, he was one of your closest friends and you forgot all about him! He did everything that summer. He saved all of you. Fuck, you wouldn’t have figured it out about the clown if it wasn’t - NO! No clown! There wasn’t a clown… But a bird? Seriously? A fucking bird. Guess that’s more believable than a murderous clown-)_

He dropped his head down onto the book and groaned loudly. An old man shushed him from two tables over. 

It was almost together, Richie realized. The pieces were almost together and there was just one thing he was missing, and he knew for sure what it was. 

Bill Denbrough. 

Stuttering Bill. Big Bill. Their leader. Everything about him was so vague and blurry… Richie couldn’t even remember what he looked like. Was he a redhead? No… He was brunet? Fuck. Was he? Richie straightened up and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. He needed to call Eddie. But Eddie thought he was insane. Hell, Eddie was probably right because absolutely none of this was making a lick of sense; not to any rational or sane person. 

Still, Richie picked up the book and pulled himself out of his seat. He headed down to the desk, where Taylor from earlier was working now. 

“You find everything you need?” She asked. Numbly, Richie nodded. 

“Can I check this book out?” He asked, sliding it towards her. 

“Of course. I’ll just need your library card.” 

“Fuck.”

Taylor did not at all seem deterred by his language, and didn’t comment on it. Instead, she went through the process of setting up an account for him - asking him questions which he mindlessly answered, (later Richie would realize that he probably would’ve given her his social security number if she had asked) but before he knew it he was walking out of the library with the book under his arm and a new piece of plastic in his wallet. At first, he started to walk home before he remembered where he was supposed to be going. He had a work meeting. 

Turning on his heel, he set off in the right direction and his memories of Mike faded from the forefront of his mind into relatively clear pieces of time, like all memories should be.

* * *

**April 22nd, 2007 - Maggie and Wentworth Tozier’s Home - Beverly Hills, California**

Getting on the last minute plane to California had been a split second impulsive decision, so when he arrived on his parents’ doorstep they had naturally been surprised to see him. But, he was welcomed into their home anyways. 

They had questions, of course, Richie couldn’t fault them for that. It wasn’t every day that your son flies across the country to visit you and beg to go through the old boxes up in the attic. But Maggie and Wentworth had no reason to deny him that, which was how Richie found himself sitting on the dusty floor and searching through his old things. 

The photo album was about the most amazing thing he had ever seen. 

It was in a box sealed up with duct tape that had his name written on it in Sharpie. The album still looked new and he flipped it open and tears sprung up to his eyes. 

The first picture was a polaroid of him and Eddie. His arm looped around Eddie’s shoulders as he pressed a kiss onto his cheek. Eddie was laughing and hugging Richie closer to him. Next to it, was a picture of just Eddie, sitting out by the quarry. His shirt was off and his gaze away from the camera. Richie remembered that day, it was just the two of them. Swimming and splashing around. 

And making out. They had definitely made out that day. 

He turned the page, and it was Bev’s face smiling up at him. Her eyes were closed and a bright grin was spread across her features. She had clearly taken the image up close to her face, and written in a caption - I’m gonna miss you, Trashmouth. Richie couldn’t remember when exactly she had taken the photo, but the writing was absolutely hers. 

Next to it was a picture of him and Mike. They were in Stan’s house and wearing party hats. It must’ve been someones birthday - Stan’s probably - but Richie didn’t know. He knew Mike was laughing and he was in the middle of talking; it must’ve been some pretty fucking good joke to make Mike laugh like that. 

He flipped the page again, and his heart dropped to his stomach. 

He was young in the picture. Maybe only nine or ten. He was hanging off of Bill’s back, his legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his shoulders, while hanging off of Richie’s back was Georgie. All three of them were smiling and laughing up towards the camera. It was summer-

* * *

**August 13th, 1987 - The Denbrough Backyard - Derry, Maine**

“Hang tight, Georgie!” Richie instructed, holding Georgie tight on his back while he moved to climb onto Bill’s. It was a little awkward, given he and Bill were fairly close in height, but they made it work long enough for Sharon Denbrough to snap the picture of them together. Richie got off of Bill and set Georgie down, before thanking Sharon and taking the picture and camera back from her. 

The camera had been a gift from Richie’s parents for his birthday back in March, and it had quickly become his absolute favourite thing in the world. He loved being able to hold onto these memories with his friends - even if they were slightly fabricated. 

“Richie can I see it?” Georgie asked him, jumping on the balls on his feet. 

“It’s not ready yet, Georgie. I’ll let you see it once it’s all developed.” Richie assured him. That seemed to placate Georgie for the moment, and he headed back to playing on the play-structure in the backyard. It wasn’t a big thing, just a little plastic slide and two swings. Richie remembered falling off those swings more times than he could count. He still had the scar through his eyebrow from falling face first on the gravel below. 

While Georgie went up and down the slide, Bill and Richie lounged back on the lawn chairs. Technically, they were on babysitting duty and each of them would be walking free with a crisp five dollar bill - but both of them liked hanging out with Georgie. 

“So, Big Bill, what are we gonna do with our… big bills?” Richie asked, incredibly proud of the pun he just pulled off. 

“I dunno. The wuh-weathers super n-nice… Maybe we could grab Stuh-Stuh-Stan and Eddie and get some i-ice cream?” Bill suggested. 

“If Eddie is allowed out of the house. The sun might be just be too hot for our little friend,” There was an edge of frustration in Richie’s tone; and Bill knew it all too well. He mirrored the same thing. 

“Muh-Maybe if you d-don’t go up to the duh-door I’d be able t-t-to talk her into luh-luh-letting him out. Y-You know she really doesn’t luh-like you but she’s always liked m-me… If anyone would be able to guh-get Eddie out, it would be muh-me.” 

It was something so simple, but to Richie, it said so much about the kind of person that Bill Denbrough was. Someone who would always think of some sort of plausible solution. Someone who would do anything to help his friends (even something as unpleasant as talking to Mrs K.). Someone who stood up for what was right - what he believed in. Richie could only imagine the look of admiration that was in his eyes as he looked at Bill, who was blissfully unaware. His eyes were on his brother, watching his every movement carefully, to make sure he didn’t get hurt. Yes, that was another thing Richie would find to be admirable. His dedication to his family, and how protective he was over his brother. It was sweet. 

Bill was the best friend any of them could ask for. 

“Sounds like a plan, Billiam. Make sure you give good ol’ Mrs K a big kiss on the cheek from me.” 

“Nuh-no thanks. I’m not in the muh-mood to puke.” 

Richie laughed more than he should have.

* * *

**November 12th, 1988 - Bill Denbrough’s Bedroom - Derry, Maine**

It was a circumstance Richie couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams. Having to comfort Bill…? Big Bill, _unbreakable_ Bill. Their de facto leader who somehow seemed to have more willpower and determination in his heart of gold than the other three combined. But it seemed like that all melted away when Georgie went missing. 

It had only been a few weeks since his disappearance, and a few days since the funeral. When all that was left behind was a severed arm, they could only confirm him dead. No kid his size would’ve survived an injury like that without immediate medical attention. It was declared a lost cause. 

It was a different atmosphere in the Denbrough house and Richie didn’t like it. A few weak jokes crossed his mind, but he found himself unable to push any of them past his lips. It wouldn’t be right. 

So there Richie was. Quieter than ever as he sat in Bill’s desk chair. His knees drawn up to his chest and his fingers picking at a loose thread on his jeans. Bill was silent too, laying on his back on his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling. Bill did that a lot these days. 

“Bill.” It was a statement, not a question. Bill didn’t verbally acknowledge it, but he did turn his head towards Richie to indicate he was listening. But Richie had nothing to say. “Nevermind,” He breathed out, and Bill turned away again. 

The silence was a heavy and uncomfortable force laying over Richie. He felt constricted, like he was about to suffocate under the weight of it. Usually, words came easy to him. He always had something to say or joke about, even if it wasn’t appropriate. But seeing Bill like this? It was jarring. His friend was broken, and Richie didn’t have the slightest idea on how he could pick up the pieces and put them all back together again. It was a scrambled mess. And it scared him. 

Richie had never been scared before. 

“Do you miss him?” 

The question came out of nowhere and Richie, at first, wasn’t too certain that it was real. Bill hadn’t stuttered at all and it had been so sudden that had it not been for Bill meeting Richie’s gaze, Richie would’ve been convinced that the words hadn’t actually come from his mouth. 

“Fuck, of course I do, Bill. Georgie…” Saying his name made Richie’s throat tighten, and he coughed before he continued. “He was like the little brother I never had… I fucking loved that kid you know. I do love him. Even now. Why do you think I always came over when you were supposed to be watching him? It wasn’t just for that sweet cash, Denbrough. I really liked hanging out with him. And you, of course but… Georgie too. He was a great kid.” 

Bill nodded along in agreement as Richie spoke, and gave him the courtesy of looking away when Richie wiped at his eyes. 

“You know he wouldn’t want you to mope around like this, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

The response had been immediate, as though Bill had been thinking the exact same thing in the moment. 

“I bet he misses you too.”

“He does,” There was a strange certainty in his voice. “I know… F-F-Fuck, this sounds cruh-crazy but sometimes it’s luh-like I can still feel him. Or h-hear him… Maybe I’m just huh-halluncinating or something but… H-He’s not gone, Richie… Nuh-not really.” 

Richie could’ve spilled some bullshit. Something about how the ones they love never truly leave them or something like that, but that felt fake. That felt like Hallmark bullshit and he wasn’t going to feed Bill anymore of that when he was certain that Bill had heard it enough already. 

“I believe you.” 

And that was all Richie needed to say, for it was all Bill needed to hear. He cried, after that. Really cried. Big fat crocodile tears rolling down his cheeks and sobs shaking his body. Richie got up from his chair, wrapping his arms around Bill and letting his friend soak his shirt with the weight of his sorrows. It wouldn’t bring Georgie back, but dammit, if Richie could do _something_ to help Bill through what must’ve been the most difficult time in his whole damned life - then he’d do it. No questions asked. 

“Y-Y-You muh-muh-must think I’m puh-puh… p-p-puh... “ The word wouldn’t come out. “A luh-loser. Suh-sobbing and sh-shit like this.” Bill was muffled against Richie’s shoulder, and his stutter only getting worse as he coughed and sobbed still. 

“Of course not. If Ronnie had died, I’d be crying tears like this too.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.”

* * *

**February 3rd, 1991 - Richie Tozier’s Bedroom - Derry, Maine**

Although Bill merely believed this to be a regular get together, Richie still found himself nervous out of his mind. He knew, logically, he didn’t have to do this. He could just pretend that everything was fine and normal and that there was no secret reasoning behind him inviting Bill over today - and Bill would be none the wiser. They could play Nintendo. They could watch some movies. Nothing had to happen and it could be just fine. 

But Richie needed to do this. For himself, and so he could be completely open and honest with his friends. That was something that they all deserved to have with one another. 

“Richie? Are you okay?” 

The lack of stuttering no longer surprised Richie as much as it used to. Ever since they had defeated IT, Bill’s stutter slowly improved. He was still in speech therapy (which he hated) but at least it was actually helping him now. And Richie couldn’t bug him anymore about him not being able to talk like a normal person. 

“Oh, I’m just fine, Billiam dearest. Absolutely fucking yankee doodle dandy over here.” He was hanging off the edge of his bed, upside down and staring pointedly away from where Bill sat cross legged on the floor. 

“Really? Because you haven’t said a word in about ten minutes,” 

Richie barked a laugh. “So you guys spend _all_ that time just begging me to shut up and yet, and yet when I do shut up for a little while suddenly it’s all ‘Oh Richie! What’s wrong? Are you okay? Oh, we miss your beautiful melodious voice so much.’ Wow! I see how it is! You’re all just a bunch of liars!” 

Bill rolled his eyes. “It’s just weird seeing you like this. Actually thinking about something.” 

Richie rolled his eyes, and considered deflecting it with another sarcastic remark or silly joke. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Bill was presenting him with the opportunity to actually talk about something that was on his mind, and sure, that was something Richie had scarcely done in his life, especially not with something this _huge_ but… But he could trust Bill. And if he got Big Bill’s approval on this, absolutely everything would be alright. That’s the way it always was, and the way it always would be. 

He stayed in his ridiculous and slightly uncomfortable position, his blood rushing to his head and turning his face pink as he finally spoke. “I have been thinking,” Richie started. “A lot. About… Things. And a person. A particular person in particular-” He ignored that trainwreck of a sentence and carried on talking. “And it’s been driving me up the fucking wall because my particular feelings towards said particular person are all new and scary and something that would get me killed in this shit hole of a town and I don’t know what the hell to do about Big Bill and I don’t even know why I’m telling you really other than the fact that I can’t keep my damned mouth shut and one of these days I’m gonna run my mouth too far and say something particular to this particular person and my whole cover will be blown and it’ll be the last time you all see Richie Tozier because if some redneck doesn’t kill me I’ll just die of shame or something immediately.” 

“If you say particular one more time I’m going to be the one to kill you.” 

“You got it chief,” 

Bill was silent for a few moments after that. In his mind, he was carefully weighing out every single word that Richie had said. Richie’s glasses slipped down his face, and while Bill only ended up blurry, Richie studied him carefully. 

“Who is this person?” 

“That’s the real mystery, isn’t it?” 

Bill frowned. “Richie, I can’t help you get some girl if you don’t tell me who she is.” 

A sad smile spread across Richie’s features. “That’s the thing, Big Bill. This person ain’t no lady.” 

The realization dawned on him slowly, then all at once. The grin on Richie’s face turned nervous as Bill’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. 

“You’re-” 

“Don’t you finish that sentence, Bill. I like tits just as much as the rest of you guys. I just happen to _also_ like this one particular guy. Just one guy! No one else even! It’s fucking insane, isn’t it? I never even thought about a dick other than my own until he just waltzed right into my heart and drove me out of my damned mind. Me! Richie Tozier! Driven insane by some fireball of a dude who’s completely clueless by how crazy he makes me!” 

Bill was silent again for a moment. 

“Who is it?”

That made Richie nervous. He couldn’t help it; he couldn’t help but feel like Bill was gearing up to punch him or something… Maybe worse? Bill seemed to sense that, since he continued onwards. 

“I mean, it’s okay!” Bill rushed out. “It’s okay. It’s okay, really… That you like a guy. I know most people in Derry won’t think so but… It’s okay. I’ll support you however I can and-” 

“It’s Eddie.” 

A beat passed between them, and Bill almost seemed to be in disbelief. Richie couldn’t blame him. 

“... Really?” 

Richie simply nodded in response. 

“Wow.” 

“Yeah. Wow’s a pretty good word for it.” Richie slipped off the bed finally, crumpling unceremoniously onto the floor, he pushed his hands through this hair and let out a sigh. “How fucked am I?” 

“Probably not terribly?” Bill tried to suggest. “Look… Eddie’s one of your best friends. No matter what, he’s gonna stick by your side, right? He’s like… Fiercely loyal. Whatever happens, you have to know that it’s gonna be just fine.” 

Richie wanted to believe him - he really did. But he couldn’t find it in himself to really believe that everything would be just fine. 

“What if he _is_ weird about it, though?” Richie asked him, shaking his head. “What if this ruins our whole friendship, Bill? I can’t handle that. I can’t handle losing Eddie.” 

“You won’t lose Eddie.” Bill shifted forward, putting his hand on Richie’s shoulder. “You’re not going to lose anyone. We’ll all be here for you. You’re still the same annoying and obnoxious Richie that we know and love. Even if you like guys too.” 

It meant a lot, and Richie actually smiled a little. His fears and insecurities didn’t completely melt away, but he knew he had Big Bill - and Big Bill was all he needed right now. He wrapped his arms loosely around him, relaxing slightly in his grip. 

“Thank you, Bill.”

* * *

**April 22nd, 2007 - Maggie and Wentworth Tozier’s Home - Beverly Hills, California**

Suddenly, it clicked. 

**July 2nd, 1989 - 29 Neibolt Street - Derry, Maine**

_Not Scary At All_   
_Scary_   
_Very Scary_

Somewhere else in the house, Eddie screamed. 

**July 5th, 1989 - Witcham Street - Derry, Maine**

He was just walking by to head over to Stan’s house. He saw the werewolf. It chased him for a block. He only just barely got away. 

He never told anyone about it. 

**August 18th, 1989 - Down the Well - Derry, Maine**

“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!” 

He brought the bat down onto the clown as hard as he could. 

**August 22nd, 1989 - The Quarry - Derry, Maine**

The slice across his palm stung, and it hurt more as he clutched onto Bill’s hand. But he didn’t let up his grip. One day, he was going to come back here. 

One day, they’d have to do this all again. There was no question of ‘if’. 

**April 22nd, 2007 - Maggie and Wentworth Tozier’s Home - Beverly Hills, California**

The clown was real. It was crystal clear in his mind. The werewolf was real. What happened that summer was all real. He wasn’t crazy. He _wasn’t_. It had to be real. It had to be… 

He looked down at his hand. Richie didn’t remember it being there before, but there it was, clear as day. A raised scar across his palm. He brushed his thumb across it, confirming that it really existed. 

“Holy fuck,” 

He couldn’t believe it - fuck, how could he believe it? Nothing about this made any logical sense, but Richie felt it tight in his chest. It was real and he was the only one who seemed to know that. Surely, he couldn’t tell his parents about it, and Eddie - 

Eddie would have to believe him, right? He must’ve been spending all of this time putting the puzzle together and remembering it too, just like Richie had. Right? He scrambled up to his feet, bumping his head off of the roof of the attic and dashing to run down the stairs. 

“Richie-” Wentworths voice was questioning, but Richie ignored his father for now. He picked up the phone and punched in the number, bringing the phone up to his face as it rain. On the third ring, someone picked up. 

“Hello?” 

The voice wasn’t Eddie’s, but it was still incredibly familiar. Richie furrowed his eyebrows, unable to place it right away. He didn’t answer. 

“Hello? Who is this?” Sonia Kaspbrak asked on the other end of the line. It hit Richie like a ton of bricks. 

He hung up the phone and dropped it onto the ground. 

“Rich…” Wentworth approached him carefully, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Richie barked a laugh. “You can say that again,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there it is! the conclusion of step three! i hope you all enjoyed it and i can't wait to get the rest of this out and published for you guys! i think you'll all really enjoy it!


	5. step four: realize who you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A connection grows. A connection snaps.

**April 9th, 2007 - The Kaspbrak/Collins Apartment - New York City, New York**

It was another night of Eddie having sex with his girlfriend. Or rather, she was having sex with him. 

They switched it up fairly often, always between two positions. Eddie holding himself up over her and rhythmically thrusting his hips into her, with her finger circling her clit until they both finished. Or with Eddie lying on his back and Myra perched on him bouncing herself up and down more to her satisfaction until again, they both finished. Then Eddie would get up, take a shower, and snuggle back up in bed with her until they fell asleep. 

Sex felt like a routine, and it wasn’t that Eddie didn’t _enjoy_ it. It felt good, but it was… Uninteresting. 

Like now, even with Myra rolling her hips vigorously and obscene noises tumbling from her lips, Eddie huffing and panting and groaning beneath her, his mind was completely elsewhere. His eyes fell shut, and somewhere in the back of his head was Richie. 

_”Eds-”_

He heard it in the back of his head, a whisper just barely there, but he gasped and came harder than he ever had. His body shaking with the force of his orgasm, Myra didn’t seem too pleased and kept going on his softening dick until she resigned to roll off of him and finish herself off. She didn’t say anything and Eddie couldn’t say anything either. 

He came down from his high, and got up to head into the bathroom to shower himself off. He peeled the condom off of himself (a feeling he always hated; it felt so wet and uncomfortable). He took longer than usual, scrubbing harshly at his skin with burning water as if he was trying to wash _Richie_ off of him. But even as his skin turned raw and red, he couldn’t remove that from his mind. The feeling of Richie’s voice in his ear as he came, and how much better it could’ve been if Richie had- 

He was already half-hard again, and that thought scared him. He turned the handle on the shower harshly, blasting himself with freezing water until he settled down again and finally stepped out. He toweled himself off and took a moment to blow dry his hair, something he didn’t normally do after a shower, but he was trying to prolong facing Myra again. He could only wait so long however, and found himself coming back into their room. He dropped his towel from around his waist and hung it up, pulling on a pair briefs and a t-shirt before he joined Myra back in bed again. 

She was facing away from him and Eddie sighed to himself. He wrapped his arm around her wide waist and pressed his face into the back of her neck. “I’m sorry, Marty.” He muttered against the back of her neck. Then, a lie took him. “You were just too good, baby… I promise though, I’ll make it better for you next time.” 

She clasped his hand in lieu of responding, lacing their fingers together and Eddie relaxed against her. He yawned.

“I love you, Eddie.” She told him softly. 

Eddie didn’t answer. Instead, he pretended to be asleep.

* * *

At some point, Eddie must’ve fallen asleep because it wasn’t long until a dream took him.

* * *

**May 27th, 1991 - Eddie Kaspbrak’s Bedroom - Derry, Maine**

The clock had just hit midnight, and Eddie and Richie were still awake. 

“Happy anniversary, baby.” Richie’s voice was a whisper in Eddie’s ear. They were pressed closed together, legs tangled together, Richie’s chest against Eddie’s back, and fingers interlaced in a comfortable position. It was the best they could hope for on Eddie’s tiny twin bed, which, even when laying with his head pressed to the wall, Richie’s feet still dangled off of the end. He’d laugh about how tiny Eddie was nearly every time he was over, but this time, it was different. This time, it was about the both of them being together. 

“Happy anniversary.” Eddie echoed. “Two whole months, huh? Can you believe it?” He closed his eyes, comfortable and relaxed in Richie’s embrace. 

“Two whole months.” Richie responded, his lips brushing against the back of Eddie’s neck as he spoke. “Two whole months of this gorgeous boy...” He squeezed Eddie around the waist, “Being all mine.” 

“Yours and Patrick Swayze’s.” Eddie joked, and laughed along with Richie at his own joke, but it slowly died down as Richie kept up his slow kisses to the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie hummed, relaxing against his embrace. But Eddie knew they couldn’t stay up forever, they had school in the morning. “Rich...” The tone in his voice was enough, Richie stopped. “We need to sleep.” Eddie muttered to him. 

Richie took the denial with grace, pressing one more kiss to his skin, before settling to press his forehead to the back of his neck. “I know. I’m sorry.” He said softly against Eddie’s skin. “I just…” 

“I know.” Eddie cut him off. 

Richie was silent for a few moments, still holding Eddie close to him and breathing hotly on his neck. 

“I love you.” 

It was Richie’s voice, and although his words were a whisper, they filled the room. It was the first time either of them had said those words, and Eddie stilled. He could feel the anticipation radiating off of Richie. Every beat that passed between them felt like a thousand years, as Eddie built up the guts to say it back. 

Because he felt it. He felt it every time he looked at Richie. 

“Shit, Eds I’m sorry I shouldn’t-” 

“I love you too.” He wasn’t going to let Richie apologize for that. He hadn’t done anything wrong. His whole body felt warm and yet, goosebumps shot up and down his spine. He rolled over, the bed creaking as he turned to face Richie. His hand coming up to cup his boyfriend’s cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “I love you.” Eddie told him again. “I love you, I love you, I-” 

He was cut off by a searing kiss to his lips. Richie pushing him back and leaning over him as hard and eager kisses were exchanged between them. Beneath the sheets, they held each other tightly. Shirts shrugged off as they wrapped around each other. Eddie could feel Richie’s heartbeat against his chest. They kissed each other deeply, desiring nothing more than to just melt into each other. 

By morning, they curled up together again. Eddie’s hair a mess, but a lazy grin was stuck on his face. Eddie could feel Richie drooling against the back of his neck, and while that had normally been something that disgusted him, Eddie could only think- 

_I love-_

* * *

**April 10th, 2007 - The Kaspbrak/Collins Apartment - New York City, New York**

Eddie was woken up by Myra pressing kisses onto his shoulder. Half of her body weight pressing against him, most distinctly, over his crotch. _Oh. He arched involuntarily into her touch._

“Mornin’ Marty…” His voice was still heavy with sleep, and he tilted his head away from the warm kisses against him again. “What’re you…?” 

“You seem about ready to try again…” Myra seemed hopeful - and with the way she spoke, Eddie wondered how long she had been working him up. He could feel himself softening from the very suggestion. “I was thinking maybe this time we could try without a condom… Maybe we could have a baby. I know we’re not married yet, but we’re going to anyways so what’s the harm in trying for one?” 

Yeah, that did it. Eddie fell completely flaccid, and Myra seemed to notice there was no longer a hardness pressing into her hip. “What’s the matter, Eddie?” 

“Just… Gotta get to work.” It was a lie, but it was the best excuse he was going to manage. He pulled himself out of bed quickly, giving her no room to argue. He figured she’d try to coax him back into bed anyways, but as Eddie pulled out his clothes and started to get dressed, Myra stayed in bed, fuming in silent anger. 

Eddie adjusted his tie, turning back to his girlfriend and sighing. “I’m sorry, honey… Tonight. I promise. I just don’t have time.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love you, Marty.” 

“I love you too.” She seemed to soften, for just a second, before she rolled away from him and pulled the blanket over, but that was just fine by Eddie. It made it all the more easy to slip out of their room. 

He hated that he couldn’t get Richie Tozier out of his head. 

He had spent years knowing he was out there and existing. But he hadn’t _mattered_ to Eddie. He was just some kid he went to school with who happened to make it big. So why was he having these… Delusions? Dreams? Why did Richie bring up a clown? Surely, he would’ve remembered a clown being so relevant in his life - clowns were creepy. They had always unnerved Eddie. A lot of things unnerved Eddie. 

Like these strange fantasies of him as a teenager with a teenaged Richie Tozier. They felt so real, but they couldn’t have been. Eddie wasn’t gay. And surely, he would’ve remembered having such a relationship. Right? 

He pushed all those thoughts away. Eddie had become rather good at suppressing bad memories, over the years. This was just as easy to shut away in the recesses of his mind like all the others. Eddie took in a deep breath, and convinced himself it was going to be okay.

* * *

**April 24th, 2007 - JFK International Airport - New York City, New York**

And it was okay. It had been over the last two weeks, he had managed to convince himself that the dream had been a result of too much caffeine and Richie getting into his head with his crazy delusions of his high school years. Sure, maybe they had been friends and it got blocked out of Eddie’s head like most of his other memories - clearly, something bad happened back then, and why would Eddie want to bring those all back? 

But he wasn’t gay. He loved Myra. He was going to marry her one day, and he wouldn’t let Richie get to him. 

Even now as he stood in the airport, a whiteboard in hand with the name ‘Richie Tozier’ written across it in Eddie’s careful script. Richie’s agent had asked for Eddie specifically. Why, he didn’t know - but he couldn’t turn down the job without raising questions, so he sucked it up. 

Richie stuck out of the crowd. Even now as an adult, he was loud in everything he did. He was tall, his hair was a mess, and his clothes were bright. The glasses he wore today were teal, and Eddie wanted to laugh at him. He dressed like a teenager, and looked completely ridiculous. He hated it. 

He smiled. 

Richie did too, coming over to Eddie pulling a suitcase behind him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Spaghetti himself.” 

Eddie groaned. “Please don’t call me that.” 

The familiarity in the sentence grounded him for a moment - and while he looked at Richie, he almost felt like a teenager again. _Almost._

“It’s a great name, Eds.” Eddie groaned again as Richie looped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie shrugged it off and stepped away from him. 

“Don’t call me that either.” Eddie spoke firmly. “I’m working for you today, okay? Treat me professionally.” 

The smile on Richie’s face dropped a little. “You still… You don’t remember, do you?” 

Eddie pursed his lips, and shook his head. 

The rest of the walk to his car was taken in silence. Eddie opened up the back and put Richie’s suitcase in for him, and then went around to open the back door, but Richie took it upon himself to open up the passenger side and slip in. Eddie didn’t say anything to stop him, and got into the drivers side and started up the car. 

“Eddie...” Richie began. Eddie’s hands stilled. Richie sounded like he might be serious for the first time in his life and… Eddie wanted to hear it. “I know you don’t remember but… I just… I want you to listen to me, okay? I didn’t remember either. But when I did, a lot of things started to make sense. A lot of shit happened in Derry. To you, me, Stan, Bill, Mike, Ben, and Bev… And it’s scary. It’s really fucking scary. And if you need to take your time figuring it all out, that’s just fine, but I need you to remember too. Okay? I need… I need to talk to someone about this and I need it to be you, Eds.” 

Eddie stayed frozen. 

* * *

**February 12th, 1991 - The Projection Room at the Aladdin - Derry, Maine**

“I need it to be you, Eds,” 

Richie’s tone was damned near whining as he looked up from his spot adjusting the audio. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to bring friends up to the projection booth. But if no one saw him, no one could stop him. And although Eddie knew it was incredibly stupid, he found himself hardly ever wanting to leave Richie’s presence. Even when he was insisting that Eddie should take part in his plan to fill the school toilets with jello. 

“First of all - no - second of all… Do you… Do you plan on just emptying out already made jello into the toilets or like… trying to make the toilet water into jello? Because I don’t think that’ll work. I don’t know how you’d set the jello. Like, I don’t think it’ll be cold enough?” 

“Oh no, trust me, Eddie. It’ll work. I tested it at home just last week. My mom nearly killed me but it was definitely worth having to clean that toilet out. But I need you to help me! It won’t be the same without you!” 

“Then don’t do it! You’ll get yourself suspended!” 

“Oh yeah, that’ll be real awful. Getting to miss school to sit at home and watch The Price is Right all day? What a punishment,” Richie beamed. “C’mon Eds! I promise, we won’t get caught! It’ll be the prank of the century and no one will know it was us!” 

“Oh please. You? Not taking credit for what you’re calling ‘the Prank of the Century’? Sounds unlikely. Forget it, Rich, I’m not playing your game.” 

Richie stood from the audio board, moving around it to drop to his knees in front of Eddie. Eddie arched his brow towards him, as Richie took his hands. 

“Edward Frank Kaspbrak, will you please do me the honour of pranking with me? In sickness and in health, for better or worse, richer or poorer… Yada, yada, yada… Please?” 

“Are you proposing with wedding vows?” 

“Depends. Are you into it?” Richie wiggled his eyebrows. Eddie flushed. 

“Beep Beep, Richie.” 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s a yes!” Richie jumped to his feet, pressing a wet kiss to Eddie’s burning red cheek. 

“It is not a yes! It’s a shut up dumbass! That’s literally the opposite of yes!” 

“The _literal_ opposite of yes is no, Eds. And I’ll note you haven’t said that yet either.” 

“I _literally_ said no like, seven times before this.” 

“What is no but a word?”

“It’s a word which means _I-will-not-help-you-ruin-our-schools-plumbing-system-do-it-yourself-jackass_.” Something Eddie didn’t think that he would ever have to specify, and yet… Richie was quite the anomaly. 

“I guess that just means I’ll have to ask Mrs. K. You know, she never says no to me, it’s always. Yes! Yes! Yesssss! Richie! Richie, yes! Harder! Harder!” Richie moaned in a high pitched voice, in an awful attempt to imitate Eddie’s mother (especially considering that her voice was lower than Richie’s.) Eddie scowled. 

“Beep-” 

“-Beep, Richie. I get it, I get it.” Richie held up his hands in defense, but a grin still rested on his face. Eddie smiled back. “You’re cute when you smile, Eds. I mean, you’re cute all the time, but you’re extra cute when you smile.” Eddie’s cheeks turned pink, and Richie brought up a hand to pinch them. “Cute cute cute!” He cooed. Eddie pushed his hand away. 

“Shut up, Richie.” 

“Why? I mean it.” 

“What?” 

“I said I mean it, Eds… I really mean… I really mean that I think you’re the cutest fucking thing. That I wanna… I wanna just always be holding you and shit and telling you how great you are. Is that… Is that a problem?” 

“Richie-” 

“I just mean like, you’re the fucking best thing in my life, Eds. You know that? I mean, like yeah I’m a comedic genius and I’ve got wicked hair. I’ve also got a dazzling smile and charming personality and some of the best friends in the whole world and I’ve got parents that love and support me and a whole ass future ahead of me that’s gonna be fucking awesome! But like… None of it seems to be anything great when I compare it to you. You’re so fucking cute, and you always make me laugh. You… Even when you seem like you’re mad at me I can always see you hiding a smile just a little bit and I love how you always have something to say back! And it’s always so clever sometimes I rile you up just so you’ll spit fire out and it blows me away! Every time! You’re like a little firework and I can’t stop watching you explode because it’s so damned beautiful and I’ve… I lost my train of thought.” 

Eddie was silent. His cheeks burning red and he couldn’t think of a single fucking thing to say. Richie had actually driven him speechless. 

“Eds? Eddie are… Are you going to say something?”

* * *

**April 24th, 2007 - Eddie Kaspbrak’s Car - New York City, New York**

“Eds? Eddie are… Are you going to say something?” 

He was viciously snapped back into reality so hard it almost gave him whiplash. He realized he was not back in the Aladdin, he was sitting in his car. But Richie was still right there. Sitting next to him, and speaking quietly. Igniting a warm flame in his chest. 

He looked at him, really looked at him. The fullness of his lips, the curve of his nose, the splattering of freckles still on his face and how some of them were hidden beneath the shade of stubble that followed the line of his jaw. The curl of his hair, now approaching chin length - he’d need to get it cut soon - the frames of his glasses. The bright teal which perfectly matched the hazel of his eyes that Eddie could easily find himself getting lost in. His heart stopped in his chest. 

“I can’t do this.” 

The words were a whisper, but they felt thunderously loud. It was a confession that Eddie didn’t want to admit. 

“I can’t… I can’t I can’t I can’t. I have a girlfriend. I’m gonna get married. I’m gonna… I can’t. I’m not… I’m not gay-” 

“Well, the way you used to kiss me says otherwise.” 

“SHUT UP!” 

He did. For a few moments as Eddie’s breathing grew haggard. A sight that was intimately familiar for Richie, and he knew just how to handle it. He took Eddie’s hand, bringing it up to rest on his chest as he took deep breaths. “Breathe with me, Eddie.” Richie spoke to him gently. “Feel that? Feel me breathing? Just follow that, okay? Inhale…. Exhale…. You got it, you got it… In…. Out…” He kept that up for about another minute until Eddie pulled his hand away. 

“I’m not asking you to come home with me, Eddie,” Richie told him gently. “I’m not asking you to come back to what we used to have. Okay? If you say you love this woman, then you love her. I’m not gonna take you away from that. I just want you to _remember_ me. Remember all of us… What happened that summer… I’m gonna go fucking insane if you tell me there was no clown again.” 

“There wasn’t-” Eddie stopped, quickly correcting himself. “I don’t remember there being a clown.” 

Richie pursed his lips, and Eddie hated the completely broken look that rested in his eyes. The eyes that Eddie could read like a book. Richie licked his lips. “Okay,” He said softly. “Okay… You don’t remember the clown. That’s okay,” He spoke as though he was trying to convince himself. “Do you have somewhere to be?” 

“Not until five,” That was when he was supposed to pick up his next ride. 

“Great. Can I treat you to coffee? You can tell me what you do remember?” Hopefulness was in his eyes. Eddie wanted to say no, to ignore Richie and put his life back to the way it was before. But he couldn’t stand to take that hope away. 

“Okay.”

* * *

Getting coffee with Richie was strange. A couple of people looked his way, seeming to recognize him, but no one approached. Richie insisted on paying for Eddie’s chai latte, and Eddie fought him on it but eventually relented. It was only three dollars. He wouldn’t kick up a fuss. 

Richie ordered a regular coffee with sugar and no milk - a lot of sugar too - five of them, something Eddie balked at. 

“That’s gonna kill you, Richie.” 

“Nah, Eds. Nothing’s gonna kill me.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, and joined him at a table in the back. He… Really didn’t know where to begin with it all. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” Eddie started, and Richie nodded slowly. 

“Let’s start easy… What do you remember about me?” 

There was that glint in his eye again, that little spark of hope that Eddie couldn’t find it in him to stomp out. “I think… Were we… Together?” He asked the question in a low voice. Admitting it to himself was something that scared him again, and Richie seemed to pick up on that. He placed his hand gently over Eddie’s. He flinched, then relaxed. He didn’t know if Richie’s touch made it better or worse. 

“Yeah, Eddie. We were together.” Richie confirmed. “We dated for about two years, up until I moved to Beverly Hills.” 

Two years… Two years and all he remembered was a handful of memories. Scraps of moments they shared together out of _two years_ all along with the fact that... 

“I’m not gay,” Eddie told him quietly. 

The hope faded from Richie’s eye. 

“I know, Eddie.” Richie spoke to him slowly, as though he might break if he spoke too fast. It was a ginger treatment that Eddie had once resented, but now he was incredibly thankful for it. He truly did think that he might’ve snapped if Richie rushed too deep into this. “You have your gorgeous-” Eddie wouldn’t call her that. “-girlfriend that you’re very much in love with. And that’s okay. I’m happy for you. But that doesn’t change…. What else do you remember?” 

“I remember… I remember going to the Aladdin. The movie theatre?” 

“Yeah, I worked there. We hung out there a lot.” 

“Yes. Yes, you would… You would take me up to the projection room even if I wasn’t allowed there. You would… You would also climb up to my bedroom window because…” 

“Because your mom hated me. She never would’ve let me in the door.” 

Eddie nodded in slow agreement. Everything slowly starting to slip into place, at least, with regards to Richie. “You’d climb up the tree next to my window, and we’d spend the whole night together laughing and trying to keep quiet. She never caught us… Came close a few times, but you’d just hide in my closet and I’d make up some lie and she always believed me. She never questioned me.” 

“You were an awful liar too. I just think she didn’t want to find out the truth. She just wanted to believe that her little Eddie-bear hadn’t done anything wrong.” 

Eddie snorted. “Her little Eddie-bear didn’t give a shit about her.” Richie barked a laugh and finally let go of Eddie’s hand. Wrapping both of his around his coffee. 

Eddie missed his touch. 

“She was a real menace, wasn’t she? She still lives in Derry, actually… I haven’t been out to visit her… She always comes out to see me. Always wants to come and complain about how dirty the city is, and how much better I would be back at home with her. Says I can bring Myra too. They love each other… They’re so alike…” Eddie bit his tongue. It felt so _obvious_ now. How hadn’t he noticed it before?

“Yeah?” Richie asked. “... What else do you remember? Maybe about your mom?” 

He was nudging Eddie in a certain direction. Something that Eddie was missing about her. His brows furrowed in concentration. 

“I remember… After I broke my arm, she wouldn’t let me see anyone. We were in the hospital, and I think… I think you and… Some others… Bill - Bill, right?” Richie nodded. “You two and others I think, came to see me. She wouldn’t let you into my room though, and I got pissed. I was so mad that she wouldn’t let me see you guys. I-” 

* * *

**July 5th, 1989 - Derry Home Hospital - Derry, Maine**

“I hate you!” Eddie snapped at his mother, for the first time in his whole life. 

“Eddie…. Eddie you don’t mean that,” Sonia Kaspbrak pleaded with her son. Crocodile tears bubbling up in her eyes. It wasn’t the first time Eddie had seen her cry, nor would it be the last. Normally, her tears would make him crumble. He couldn’t stand to see his mother cry, but today… Today was different. Today, Eddie was absolutely fed up with the treatment she gave him. 

“Stop it.” His words were chilling. “Stop crying. It’s not going to work this time.” 

“Eddie-” 

“I said stop it, momma! You always… You always do this! You keep my friends away from me! You make me think I’m sick and you fill me with fake pills when I don’t need them and you tell me all of these things so I won’t leave you! But I want to, momma! I want to leave you! I can’t wait till I get out of this damned house and leave you behind and I’m never going to speak to you again!” 

“Who told you those pills were fake?” 

Eddie blinked, stunned that that was the part she chose to focus on. “Mr. Keene, at the pharmacy.” 

“He lied to you, Eddie. He’s just messing with your head. Listen to your mother. Why would I lie to you?” 

“Why would _he_ lie to me!?” Eddie snapped back. “Go away.” 

“Eddie… You don’t talk to your mother like that.” 

“Go away, momma. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I just want to see my friends but you went and made them leave, didn’t you? This is why I’m gonna leave you. I’m gonna leave Derry the very first chance I get.” 

Sonia glared at him, and Eddie glared back. There was a fire in his eyes, and Sonia fell first. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the hospital room.

* * *

**April 24th, 2007 - A Coffee Shop - New York City, New York**

“You seriously said that to your mother?” Richie was nearly laughing. Eddie almost did too. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I think I did. And I stayed true to my word… For the most part. I went out to New York for college. I just took a General Arts and Science… Never really figured out what I wanted to do. I started driving for extra money and just… Really liked it. I moved up the ranks and it pays pretty well. Enough to sustain my apartment.” Eddie explained. “I still talk to her, but I refuse to go back to Derry… I don’t know why, really… It felt like there was something pushing me back from there. Something that didn’t want me there.” 

Richie looked like he knew what that was. 

“Who was there that day?” Eddie asked. “At the hospital… Who had come to see me?” 

“Me, Bill Denbrough, Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, and Ben Hanscom… Do you remember them at all?” 

Eddie was silent for a moment. “Bill Denbrough… He’s that author, right?” Eddie asked, and again, Richie nodded. “We knew him too. I was good friends with him.” He focused in on that, focused in on remembering Bill Denbrough. “He had a brother, right?” 

“Yeah, he did. His name was Georgie… He was… He went missing in the fall of 1988… Do you remember that?” 

Eddie seemed to hesitate a bit, before the look of realization dawned on his face. “We went looking in the sewers that summer. Bill wanted to find him… Or just… Something, because there never was a body. So he took us down to the barrens and we were gonna look for him. That was when we met Ben, wasn’t it? We were… We were at the mouth of the sewer when Ben came down behind us bleeding because… He fell?” 

“He got into a fight with Henry Bowers. Son of the bitch carved him up with an ‘H’… Said he was gonna write his whole name.” 

“Right. Yeah...yeah and then we took him to Keene’s and… We patched him up.” 

“You patched him up. You were the only one who knew what they were doing.” 

“You were telling me to suck the wound.” 

“I stand by it,” 

Eddie laughed at that. Really and honestly laughed. “It wasn’t like a snake bit him, Richie. That wouldn’t have done anything!” 

“It would’ve sucked the Henry right out of him, that’s what it would’ve done. And all that grey water shit you were going on about.” 

“Grey water’s real. It’s a miracle none of us got any fungal infections after all the time we spent down there-” 

Eddie’s laughter died after that. “We… We went down there. Really down there.” 

Richie let his face drop too, leaning forward slightly. “Do you remember why we went down there?” 

The clown. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as the image played in his mind. _Climbing down there on Big Bill’s back, because his arm was broken. His gut telling him which twists and turns they needed to take. The water soaking his shoes and squelching with each step he took. The tense atmosphere around them. Stan going missing. Finding him with that awful lady biting his face. “We wouldn’t leave you, Stanley. We didn’t abandon you. We wouldn’t ever-” Bill was gone. Beverly floating. All the kids floating. The clown._

“The clown.” He couldn’t open his eyes. The face of Pennywise - Robert Grey - staring up at him and he was scared that if he opened his eyes he’d be swallowed up by the Deadlights just like all the other kids. 

He felt Richie touch his hand again. 

“You’re safe here, Eddie. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna hurt you here, there’s no clown here. You’re gonna be just fine, Eddie. Take a deep breath.” He did. “That’s it, you’re gonna be just fine.” 

Richie’s words we soothing, and soon he found himself opening his eyes. “I… I remember.” 

“I do too.” 

“Do the others…?” 

“Mike should… Mike, I bet does… I’m scared to call him… Scared to… Go back there, I guess. Is that selfish?” 

“No… He chose to stay. He chose to so we wouldn’t have to.” 

“Yeah, he did. Mike was a great guy, wasn’t he?” 

Eddie took a tentative sip from his latte with his free hand. He spilled a little down his chin, and wiped it away. “It couldn’t have been real…” 

“It was… It was, and we fought it and we won. And we made a promise? Do you remember that?” 

He did. He did, and he knew he promised that one day he’d go back. But Eddie shook his head. 

“We said if IT came back… We’d go back.” Richie brought his other hand forward, flipping it palm up. A deep scar ran over his palm. Carefully, he flipped Eddie’s hand over too. A matching scar across his hand. 

Richie clasped their hands together. “You promised too. Promised in your blood like we were some kind of fucking cult of toddlers.” 

Eddie’s eyes locked on Richie’s, peering at him behind those obnoxious teal glasses. Eddie’s own glasses were fogging up, and that was his first sign that he was crying. He pulled them off of his face, pulled his hand away from Richie’s and buried his face into his hands, as though that would make it all go away. As though hiding would do him any good. 

“Why would you fucking do this to me?” He demanded of Richie. “You know my life was going just fine. I was doing great! I was about to get married! I was happy! I was happy and you’re- You’re taking it all away!” 

Evidently, his outburst was gathering attention. Perhaps this wasn’t the best place to talk about this. A barista came over. “Sir are you-?” 

“I’m fine!” Eddie snapped. He pulled his hands away from his face. His cheeks now damp with tears and his eyes bloodshot. “I’m fine… I’m… I’m sorry.” He reached for a napkin on the table and wiped at his face. The barista left them be. 

“I’m sorry.” Richie said quietly. “I didn’t want to be alone.” 

For a moment, Eddie felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A longing. He felt a warmth in his chest as he looked at Richie. Something that came and soothed the scar that had just been ripped open. He understood what Richie wanted. This was a lot, and he couldn’t go through it alone. And sure, Eddie supposed Mike would’ve always been an option. But Mike wouldn’t leave Derry, and that would mean Richie would have to go back. Eddie supposed he wouldn’t have been able to do it either. 

He looked at Richie, and he knew he loved him. He _had _loved him. Past tense. And something like that didn’t just go away. No, Eddie didn’t believe anyone could completely stop loving someone. Which was why he felt that tightening in his chest for Richie. He wasn’t attracted to him anymore…he _couldn’t_ be. But he still cared about him. He wouldn’t leave him like this. __

__“You won’t be.”_ _

__Eddie reached for Richie’s hand, and Richie willingly gave it. The touch was brief, scar against scar while Eddie analyzed Richie’s face. Those eyes he could read so well were stuck on their hands together. The spark of hope was back, and Eddie wanted to fan that spark into a flame that would light up the whole world. Someone like Richie could light up the whole damned world._ _

__“I missed you.” Richie told him quietly. Pulling his eyes away to meet Eddies._ _

__“I missed you too.,” And Eddie knew it was true._ _

__They didn’t talk anymore. At least, not about Derry. Eddie put his glasses back on and sipped on his tea as he told Richie about Myra, admittedly, making her out to sound a lot better than she was (both in physical description and personality.) And Richie told him about Isabelle and the complete disaster that their relationship had been. Richie rarely ever talked about what happened - typically citing that the tabloids said it all and that he didn’t need to add anything else. But it was different with Eddie. Eddie cared… Eddie seemed to really be listening. And that was what Richie had really needed._ _

__But soon enough, drinks were finished and discarded and Eddie checked the time on his watch._ _

__“I gotta go… Got someone else to go pick up.”_ _

__“Anyone interesting?”_ _

__“Ashlee Simpson, if you find her interesting.” Eddie smiled as Richie gave him a thumbs down. “Uh… Do you… Do you want my cell number?” Eddie asked._ _

__Richie scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket, a Blackberry, with the spinning wheel in the centre. Eddie accepted the phone and put his name into a contact. “Just text me so I can add you to my phone.” Eddie told him. “And I’ll… I’ll see you soon, I guess.” He adjusted his glasses._ _

__“Yeah, I’ll see you soon Eds.”_ _

__“Don’t call me that.”_ _

__Richie saluted in response, and watched as Eddie left._ _

* * *

__**April 24th, 2007 - Kaspbrak/Collins Apartment - New York City, New York** _ _

__“Marty?”_ _

__It was a strange sight to walk in to. It was a little after eleven pm, and the lights were off. He could hear music playing… Careless Whisper? God, he almost laughed. Was this some sort of attempt at seduction. “Marty?” Eddie called out again, stepping into the apartment and clicking on the light._ _

__It was then he was able to make out the figure of his girlfriend on the couch, in her best dress with her hair curled and pinned up elaborately and her makeup done. It was something she rarely did, and it occurred to Eddie then that this wasn’t a seduction attempt. He frowned in confusion._ _

__“What’re you all dressed up for?”_ _

__Myra blinked at him. “You don’t… You don’t have anything planned?”_ _

__Eddie shook his head. “Did I say I did?” There was a genuine confusion in his voice._ _

__“No you just… You keep saying we’re going to get married and with the way you ran out on me this morning and being out so late tonight I just thought that maybe… Maybe you were going to…”_ _

__Eddie, again, shook his head._ _

__Myra stood up, snapping off the record player so hard he was worried the vinyl would scratch. “Then when, Eddie? When!? You keep talking about it! Soon, soon, soon, you say! But when? You have a job. We have money. We have a house. We… We have everything but a marriage! How long am I going to have to wait, Eddie? Am I not good enough? Am I not pretty enough? Are you just going to leave me?” Tears welled up in Myra’s eyes, and Eddie was frozen on the spot._ _

__“No… No, it’s not that… It’s just… I’m not…”_ _

__“You’re not what, Eddie? You know you’re not getting any younger! You’re _lucky_ to have someone like me! Who loves you and takes care of you!” _ _

__Eddie’s chest tightened. Anger surging through him, and he had to remind himself that Myra was not his mother. She wasn’t. She was Myra Collins and she was a nice girl and she didn’t do anything wrong._ _

__“I know, Myra…” Eddie conceded. “Just… Just give me time, okay?”_ _

__“I keep giving you time! I’m running out of time! If we don’t get married soon we won’t be able to have kids! Or we’ll be so old we’ll be practically wasting away by the time they’re going to college!” She was being dramatic, and Eddie was pretty sure she knew it. He pinched the bridge of his nose._ _

__“What if I don’t want to get married? Why do we even have to get married, Myra? Why can’t we just be together? Is that not enough for you?”_ _

__“So I’m not good enough to marry, Eddie? Is that what you’re saying?”_ _

__“I didn’t! I didn’t say that at all! I just… I don’t want to get married. Okay? I don’t! It has nothing to do with you. I love you, I really do but… I don’t want to get married. If you want to have kids, fine! We can!” He felt like he was going to throw up. “But I don’t want to get married? Okay?”_ _

__Her tears were falling thick down her cheeks, and she didn’t say anything. She didn’t say if it was okay, or if this was the end. Myra merely turned around and stalked back into their bedroom. She slammed the door, and Eddie could hear her crying._ _

__On impulse, he took a step forward. His gut was telling him that he needed to check on her. That he loved her, and he couldn’t just leave her there to go and cry all on her own… But he didn’t. Instead, he too turned around and headed out the front door._ _

__He didn’t know where he was going, where he planned on being. But when he got to his car and started it up, his heart took him where he needed to go._ _

__It wasn’t a long drive and he parked, getting out of his car and staring at the bright sign of Richie’s Record’s in front of him._ _

__The place was closed, but Eddie could still see a solitary light on and Richie sweeping around the store, dancing around with his broom. Eddie, for a moment, smiled. He tried the door. Locked. He tapped on the glass, and Richie didn’t seem to notice. He tapped again, louder this time, and Richie looked up. He dropped his broom and scrambled over to the door, unlocking it and opening it up. The sounds of Avril Lavigne filling Eddie’s ears._ _

__“And what can I do for you, Mr. Kaspbrak?” It was an Australian accent this time. “What brings you by here so late, mate?”_ _

__Eddie pushed his hand back through his hair. “Can I stay here tonight? My… My girlfriend and I got into a fight.”_ _

__The hope was back in Richie’s eyes - but he blinked, and it was gone. He stepped aside and motioned Eddie in. “Mi casa is su casa, my friend. You’re always welcome here. Can I ask what you fought about?”_ _

__Eddie hesitated to answer, before resigning. “She thought I was going to propose tonight. I wasn’t going to but… I dunno. She got all dressed up for it and… I finally told her that I don’t want to get married. She didn’t take it well… And she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk so I needed to get out of there. I needed to get some air and some space. Give her some too, I guess… Let her get used to the idea of us not getting married? I dunno. I don’t want to break up but… She might now.” Eddie really didn’t know what would happen come morning._ _

__But Richie was incredibly sympathetic. “Don’t get married, Eds. Shit’s awful, let me tell you.” He said it as though it was a joke, but Eddie could tell there was more truth to it than Richie was letting on. He wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and lead him up to his apartment again. “And don’t you go running out on me again,” He teased._ _

__“I won’t.” Eddie promised. He knew he wouldn’t. For the first time since meeting him again; he didn’t want to._ _

__Richie softened for a moment. “I can go and get you a blow up mattress if you want. Or if you’re feeling inclined I’m always down for a good cuddle.” He grinned cheekily. Eddie didn’t respond._ _

__“I’ll just take the couch. Don’t worry about me. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”_ _

__“Nah, it’d be no trouble...” Richie watched as Eddie carefully untied his shoes, leaving them by the door. He watched him hang up his coat and put it in the closet, as though he had been to Richie’s place a dozen times before._ _

__“The couch is fine, but thank you Richie.”_ _

__Eddie moved slowly, putting a pillow at one end of the couch and laying down. He pulled the blanket over himself and took off his glasses, folding them and setting them onto the coffee table. Richie noticed he didn’t take off his socks or his belt._ _

__“I’ll just be downstairs sweeping. Be back up before you know it.”_ _

__“Okay,”_ _

__Eddie’s eyes had already closed._ _

__Richie, downstairs, rushed through his nightly routine. Finally, clicking off Avril and heading back upstairs._ _

__“So, Eds, I was thinking maybe we could watch some Ace Ventura...” Richie cut himself off. Eddie was sound asleep on the couch, his mouth dropped open and soft snores escaping him._ _

__“So cute,” Richie sighed to himself, and tip-toed off to his bedroom. He shut the door quietly, and got ready for bed._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading this again! i hope you guys really enjoyed the chapter and the reddie content slowly coming together. it'll take them a bit of time, but i promise, you'll see them all together soon enough. <3 as always, i really appreciate any comments you have and i hope to get the next chapter up for you guys soon!!


	6. step five: deny your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie is presented with a choice.

**April 25th, 2007 - Richie Tozier’s Apartment - New York City, New York**

Richie woke up to the smell of bacon sizzling in the kitchen. For a moment, he was confused. That was a smell he hadn’t woken up to in years. Perhaps once or twice Isabelle had made breakfast for him, but it was a smell he most commonly associated with _home._ With his mom and dad standing over the stove, Ronnie sitting at the table chopping fruit, and Richie would come join them and start up the toast and set the table. Somehow, he always woke up with perfect timing to do that. 

But he wasn’t in Beverly Hills, he wasn’t at his parents house, and it was very unlikely that the whole Tozier family had sneaked into his apartment for breakfast. No… No, there was no way that they would be this quiet had that been the case. 

It must’ve been Eddie, Richie finally concluded as he pulled himself out of bed. He didn’t brush his hair, and he picked out his specs for the day - today, was magenta. Richie looked at himself in the mirror, and aside from a couple inches of height and the bright purple hue of his glasses… He looked exactly like his teenage self. 

Briefly, he wondered if Eddie had that effect on him. Surely, he hadn’t worn the old Green Day shirt in years (that was why it had been in his pajama drawer) but he had nearly always worn plaid pajama pants to bed. He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, and stepped out of his room. 

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing Eddie again. 

Sure, he was only looking at the back of him right now, but god, was it ever a sight for sore eyes. 

He was still in his clothes from yesterday, but Richie noticed that he had untucked his shirt, and removed his socks. His belt was on the table, which meant that was absent too. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms which looked a little stronger than he had expected. Richie briefly wondered if he worked out at all. He tried to stop imagining how nice it would be to step up behind Eddie, wind his arms around his slim waist and kiss at the back of his neck. 

_”Morning, Rich.” Eddie would coo, leaning back into Richie’s embrace as he let out a small sigh. The kisses to his neck would get him half-hard with ease “We gotta eat, baby.” Eddie would whine in his ear._

_”But you look so much more delicious.” Richie would argue with him, and Eddie would have to laugh at that._

_”Later, Richie. I promise.” He would insist, and Richie would relent. Pressing one wet kiss to Eddie’s lips with a dramatic ‘MWAH!’ sound, before he stepped away to actually be of help. He’d put down the toast, just like he would with his family. Just like Eddie would come to be a_ part _of his family._

_Then, after they cooked and ate, Richie would take Eddie apart right on the kitchen table._

Richie shook those thoughts out of his head. Eddie wasn’t his, and Richie didn’t believe that Eddie would be his. Not anytime soon, at least. No matter how awful that thought made him feel… He needed to accept it. He couldn’t drag Eddie away from his girlfriend and just tear apart his whole life. 

Richie inhaled deeply, bringing his senses back together. 

“Morning, Eds.” He could practically see the scowl forming on Eddie’s face from behind. “What have I done to deserve the honour of what I’m sure is a damned amazing breakfast?” Richie asked. He came up to stand beside Eddie, leaning against the counter as he watched Eddie cook. He was making scrambled eggs with salsa - just how Richie liked them. 

Eddie had remembered how Richie liked his eggs. 

“It was the least I could do… After you let me stay here last night. Although, I realize I’m not doing you any favours by just… Cooking your food but I didn’t want to leave to go shopping and then you’d wake up and I’m gone.” Eddie explained. It was sweet, and Richie smiled towards him. 

“You didn’t have to do anythin’ for me, Eddie, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate the thought. I hardly ever cook myself a real meal.” 

“With how skinny you are, that doesn’t surprise me.” 

Richie gaped at him. “I’m not… _That_ skinny...” He paused. “Am I?” 

“I’m pretty sure I could wrap one hand around your waist.” Evidently, Eddie was over exaggerating, but Richie still acted as though his words were genuine. Gasping loudly as he wrapped his arms around his middle. Today, Eddie would get a first hand taste of his Southern Belle Voice. 

“Ah say, Mistah Kaspbrak! Is tha’ any wahy ta talk ta a lay-dee!” His pronunciation and accent was nearly too thick to be intelligible. But when Eddie laughed, Richie was certain he’d be able to talk like that his whole life. “An’ now ya’r laffin in mah fayce! Mistah Kaspbrak this ain’t a wahy ta git a lay-dee under yer arm, ya gotts ta treat her wiff love an respect!” 

“Oh, beep beep, Richie!” 

It was a phrase neither of them had heard in years, but it was certainly something they had both missed, in a strange way. The Voice was dropped as they both fell into laughter. 

Laughing with Eddie was the thing Richie was certain that he missed the most. 

The eggs burnt a little, as Eddie hadn’t quite settled himself down enough to tend to them properly. The smile stuck on Eddie’s face in spite of it, and he continued around the kitchen for a few more minutes. Dividing the eggs onto plates, adding the bacon and buttering toast. Once they were done, he placed them down onto the table - side by side. 

Richie took his seat, and Eddie retrieved the carton of milk. 

“You should really get some orange juice, it’s good for you.” Eddie commented, taking his seat next to Richie. He ate his eggs first. 

“You’re probably right. Look at how skinny I am, apparently, I’m not getting enough of any of my vitamins.” 

“Judging by what you have in the fridge, you’re absolutely right. Do you even eat at all?” He asked. 

Richie, who had a mouthful of eggs by then, thought that was answer enough. “I do!” He spoke around his eggs. “I just… Don’t eat very healthy. Cooking for just myself is boring.” He swallowed finally. “Guess I just gotta get myself someone like you to come and cook for me all the time,” 

Eddie rolled his eyes openly, taking a bite and swallowing it before he spoke to Richie again. “I don’t get why you don’t cook more. If memory serves me right,” which Eddie couldn’t be certain about these days, “You were a really good cook. Why not do more of it?” 

Richie didn’t have a real answer for that - other than _I don’t want to._ The answer didn’t satisfy him either. So, instead he shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get back into it now.” He took a bite. 

“It’d be a good idea if you did,” Eddie advised him. “You might like actually eating good food too.” 

“Oh, I already know I do.” Richie grinned cheekily. 

Soon enough, they finished off their meals. Richie making a real spectacle out of licking his plate clean at which Eddie wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “You’re disgusting, Richie.” 

“I’m just not wasteful,” 

Eddie collected their dishes and put them in the sink. He noted the lack of dishwasher, and plugged up the drain and started to fill the sink with hot water. 

“Oh no, no no.” Richie shook his head. “You don’t cook breakfast for me and do my dishes. I’m an adult. I can wash some dishes.” 

“Richie-” 

But he wasn’t going to have it. Richie shook his head firmly and bumped Eddie with his hip to move him aside. “If you’re really that determined, you can dry and put them away, but I’m doing the scrubbing. Deal?” 

Eddie huffed, but resigned to taking up a tea towel and agreeing with a reluctant, “Deal.”

Richie was glad he wasn’t the one opening the store today - He rarely opened on Wednesday mornings, because Tuesday nights Richie tended to stay up late with a couple of beers watching Infomercials. Why he did that on Tuesdays was beyond him, but sometimes, that’s the way life was. He was sure soon enough someone would come up and knock on his door and ask where he was, or just check in on him, but for now, he worked with Eddie on scrubbing the dishes clean, handing them off for him to dry, and then put away. 

And it felt normal - falling into his banter with Eddie. Both of them completely at ease and talking and laughing with each other. Making dumb jokes, Richie even bringing back his remarks about Eddie’s mother which were quickly met with more ‘beep beeps’. It was like nothing had changed between them - like they hadn’t broken up, like Richie could lean over and kiss Eddie on the cheek and it would be okay. 

But he couldn’t, and he didn’t. 

“I didn’t take my meds.” 

The statement from Eddie came out of left field - and there was a small edge of panic in his tone which almost made Richie want to panic. 

“Eds, are you-” 

“I didn’t take my meds,” Eddie repeated, taking in a deep breath. “And I feel… Okay? I feel just… Fine.” Evidently, that hadn’t been what Eddie was expecting. “If I’m at home and I don’t take my medication, I feel like shit. Complete shit. Everything about me feels off and I feel like I’m going to just drop dead on the floor if I don’t take something.” He explained. 

“And you don’t feel that now?” 

“I don’t feel that now.” 

This was interesting, and Richie could see different things passing over Eddie’s face. Different thoughts, and feelings, he couldn’t quite identify what they all were… But there was a lot going on in his head. Eddie stepped away from the counter, going to sit down at the table again. 

“Eddie?” Concern was evident in Richie’s voice. He went to go and sit across from him. 

“It’s not placebo’s anymore, I know that much.” Eddie was certain of that. He talked to his doctors himself, he got his own prescriptions, he didn’t have his mother meddling in his medicine cabinet anymore. Myra was only his girlfriend, she had no power over his health care. “But still, if I so much as miss a vitamin… I always feel awful. Like something was wrong. And it’s not wrong today and I… I don’t understand why.” 

They both knew that was a lie. 

Richie was quiet for a few moments. 

“You feel okay, Eddie, because you _should_ be here.” He started slowly. “You… You need your friends. You need the Losers Club, Eds. You’re one of us, and we’re the people you were able to be yourself with. You haven’t gotten that ever again, have you?” 

Eddie only shook his head. Richie reached for his hand - but Eddie retracted it. “I should go home.” 

Richie didn’t think it was possible for a phrase so simple to break his heart. 

“Alright, Eds.” 

“I have work today.” 

“I know.” 

“I have Myra to fix things with.” 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Yes. Absolutely.” 

“Okay.” 

A beat of silence. 

“You know you’re my friend, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“And you can call me whenever?” 

“Will do.” 

“Okay.” Eddie sighed. “Okay, Richie… I’ll… I’ll see you soon.” 

“Till next time,” 

Eddie scrambled around, quick to pack up his things, and Richie saluted him on the way out.

* * *

Richie didn’t call him. 

It wasn’t that he forgot, or that he didn’t want to, he knew it would hurt too much. After thinking about it, Richie decided that there was absolutely no way he would win this. Either he’d stick by Eddie’s side, and watch him with Myra, and break his heart every damned day as his reignited teenage love either burned a bigger flame, or he waited for it to snuff out. Or, he’d somehow get Eddie to admit he was, at the very least, bisexual, and they’d end up together - but then, Eddie would be an adulterer, and Richie couldn’t allow that to happen to Myra. He didn’t know anything about the woman, but he knew no one deserved to be cheated on and he wasn’t going to play a part in that. 

So, perhaps, he was better off to keep Eddie an arms length away. Keep his friendship, keep his memories, but realize that things were never going to be just right for them, and try to accept that as being okay. 

Even if it was the hardest thing in the world. 

“Something on your mind, boss?” Nat asked. Richie was up at the cash register as usual, and she was a few feet away from him, filing new releases of CD’s onto the display. 

“Hm?” 

“I said, is there something on your mind? You’ve been like, totally spaced out all day. Is it something to do with that guy that keeps coming around? You know, there’s been a betting running pool on what the deal is with him. Logan thinks he’s a cousin. Says the glasses make you look a little related, but not enough to be brothers. I think that’s stupid because glasses aren’t genetic. I mean like, eyesight is but anyone can get whatever glasses they want, you know? I think he’s your new boyfriend, because you’re getting all blushy as I said that which totally proves my point but R says I shouldn’t say that because you’re my boss and it’s weird, but you don’t mind, right? Especially since it’s totally true, isn’t it? I mean, he did leave your apartment this morning and no one saw him come in which means he must’ve stayed the night.” There was a knowingness in Nat’s tone which made Richie smile. 

“What’s R’s bet?” He asked curiously. 

“She thinks you’re trying to start a two-person band and he’s a drummer. Apparently you have the fingers for a keyboard or a guitar, so _obviously_ your other bandmate has to be a drummer.” 

Richie laughed openly at that. “Well, unfortunately, you’re all wrong. Eddie’s an old friend, from back home in Maine. And why he left my apartment this morning was because he got into a fight with his _girlfriend_ \- yes, that’s right. A woman.” The drop in Nat’s face made Richie let out a small chuckle. “So all of your little theories can be forgotten about. Although, I need to commend R for creativity. Maybe give them a raise.” 

“And I don’t get a bonus for my honesty?” Nat played, and Richie’s grin only widened as he shook his head. “Impress me with a theory about me, then we’ll talk.” 

“Oh, challenge accepted.” Nat grinned back at him.

* * *

**April 25th, 2007 - The Office of Dr Lisa Reynolds - New York City, New York**

Dr Lisa Reynolds was Eddie’s best friend. 

She was also his therapist. 

Eddie, of course, realized this wasn’t the best situation for him. But he found himself unwilling to let people get too close to him in his life. He always felt like he was unable to relate to anyone. He even felt a wall between his relationship with Myra, something that he couldn’t quite break down. And he wanted to! He wanted to be able to exist without that barrier keeping him from the people he cared about! 

He didn’t want to think about how that barrier didn’t seem to exist with Richie. 

“Afternoon, Lisa,” Eddie greeted when he was let in for his appointment. He took up his usual seat on the couch. He sat straight, one of his legs crossed over the other. 

“Hey, Eddie. How have you been?” 

Eddie had always liked how casually Lisa treated things. He liked sitting with her, and talking with her, and not being afraid of judgement or being yelled at or being told he was gross and dirty and that he wasn’t good enough- 

Lisa said that was because of his mother. The fears he had built up had been because of the way she treated him as a child. She said he should confront her about it. 

Eddie hadn’t. 

In his mind, so much as seeing Lisa once every two weeks was a big step. His mother always hated the idea of _psychology._ Under the impression that talking to someone about your feelings meant you had one foot in the loony bin - and no son of Sonia Kaspbrak’s was going to be in the loony bin. 

It had been one of Eddie’s professors in school, where he was studying general arts and sciences, who suggested that he talk to someone. Eddie, at first, had been offended. But the more he thought about it… The less awful the idea sounded. So, he took that step, and that was how he became a regular with Lisa Reynolds. 

She helped him keep his head on his shoulders, and he liked that. 

However… The question she had just asked him was one of the hardest ones he had ever faced. 

“Not good, Lisa...” Eddie decided. “Myra and I had a fight.” 

“Oh no.” Her sympathy seemed genuine. “What happened?” 

“She thought I was going to propose, but… I told her I didn’t want to get married. At all.” Eddie explained, and Lisa nodded slowly. “I think I might be gay.” 

The words slipped out without Eddie meaning for them to, and suddenly, the thing he had been denying for so long was out in the open. He had admitted it, and he couldn’t take it back. 

Lisa, however, didn’t seem too surprised. She merely nodded in understanding, and Eddie didn’t know if that was better or worse. “What brought you to this conclusion?” 

“A lot of things,” There was something relieving about saying this all. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t tell her everything. He couldn’t tell her everything. He didn’t think she would believe him about the things that happened that summer? But a childhood forgotten under all the torture his mother put him through? Surely, that would be believable. “My… My general lack of attraction to Myra. We’ve… You’ve mentioned that it’s pretty Freudian before and I argued that… I argued that it wasn’t the case because she wasn’t completely like my mother. My mom was in control of me, but Myra and I are equals. Just because she’s a little _bigger_ didn’t mean…” Eddie shook his head, not wanting to go down that path and stray from his point.

“I remembered something. A lot of things, that I didn’t remember from being a kid. You always asked me about friends I had as a kid, and I always said I didn’t really have any but… That’s not true. I just… I forgot about them entirely, Lisa, but I had six great friends. Bill Denbrough, Stan Uris, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, and Richie Tozier...Yeah, that Richie Tozier. They… God, they were all amazing people. We were so close. A bunch of losers, but we loved each other. I… I loved all of them.” Eddie explained. “But none more than Richie… You see, I met him again a few weeks ago and… We used to date. We dated for a while, and I completely forgot about it.” 

That, seemed to surprise Lisa a little bit. She wrote something down on a pad of paper. 

“Does Richie remember this too?” Eddie nodded. “Have you talked about it?” Eddie shook his head. 

“I love Myra.” He affirmed. And he’d stay firm on that. “I don’t want… I don’t want to leave what I have with her.” 

“That is your problem, Eddie.” Lisa spoke to him softly. “I can’t tell you what you are or what you aren’t. But I can tell you that you do hold onto what’s familiar. Picking a woman who reminds you of your mother, sticking with her even if you aren’t happy with her. You’re afraid of change, but that’s only going to make you hurt, Eddie.” She spoke so gently, but Eddie had never felt smaller. “You need to analyze your choices, and figure out what makes you happy, and run with it.” 

Eddie’s throat felt dry, and he stood up. “Thank you, Lisa.” He started to head towards the door. 

“Eddie, you still have 40 minutes.” 

“I’ll see you in two weeks, Lisa.” 

She didn’t stop him from leaving.

* * *

Eddie went right home after his appointment with Lisa, and as expected, Myra was there. She was sitting at the kitchen table nursing a mug of tea and silently looked up at Eddie when he came in. For a few moments, neither of them spoke. 

“Marty…” The nickname didn’t make her smile. He swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry, Myra. I don’t… I don’t want to get married and-” 

There was two ways Eddie could finish that sentence. He could break it off with her and start to figure himself out, and who he is… Or he could ask for her forgiveness. Neither option was appealing. 

“Stop.” She interrupted him, before he even had to chance to speak. Tears burning in her eyes and rolling heavily down her cheeks. “Stop it, Eddie! You don’t love me, just admit it! Just admit that you don’t love me and you’ll save both of us all of this pain! You’re hurting me, Eddie. You’re hurting me so _bad!_ ” 

Oh no. Eddie didn’t want to hurt her. He could… He would never want to hurt her. 

“Myra, no.” He spoke gently, approaching her cautiously. He didn’t reach out to touch her. Not yet. “No, I do love you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t… I don’t want things to be like this.” He wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by ‘this’. 

“Then marry me.” She said simply, her voice cracking. “Marry me, Eddie, and this will all be okay!”

“Myra…” 

“Marry me.” She insisted again. “You marry me, Eddie, by the end of the month you better propose… Or I’m leaving! I won’t stay with a man who doesn’t love me! And it’ll hurt, you’re gonna hurt me so much, Eddie. But I’ll do it. I’ll leave you and then who will take care of you? It’ll be so bad for the both of us but… But I’ll do it.” 

“Myra, that’s… That’s six-days.” 

“You’ve had three years!” 

Eddie knew her argument was insane, so he couldn’t think of a sane thing to counter it with. He swallowed thickly, and gave a stiff nod. “Okay.” 

Myra was silent, before she too affirmed, “Okay.” 

Eddie looked at her for a moment, her tears still coating her cheeks and spilling from her eyes and he took in a deep breath. “I’m going to go shower.” She didn’t protest. 

Eddie took a long shower. Letting the hot water barely scald his skin and scrub away the mess he had made for himself. The shower was a safe place, where he could breathe and think and relax. Between Myra and Richie, his mind wandered. Myra made his stomach feel sick, and Richie made him feel warm and safe. 

He reminded himself that he wasn’t gay - but he still knew which one he’d rather be in a room alone with. 

Once he was out of the shower, he got himself dressed and kissed Myra on the cheek before he headed out for work. Driving was nice, he was able to distract himself and forget all about the position he had put himself into. He didn’t want to marry Myra, he really didn’t. But he also didn’t want to be alone and hurt her. Myra didn’t deserve to be hurt like that. 

It was just a matter of which one he wanted to do more.

He decided not to decide. Not yet, at least. He could deal with one more night. He came home from work, and he thought about calling Richie… but he didn’t. Instead, he climbed into bed with Myra, and let her push him down and ride him hard. They came together, and fell asleep curled up together. 

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, to be loved by her, she was safe. She took care of him. She made him feel good. 

He could live like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one was a lot shorter than the other chapters, but I needed to end it there for the suspense of it all! I hope you guys enjoy reading it either way, and are as excited for the next chapter as I am!


	7. step six: make a choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie has a dream which leads to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Pennywise warnings. Nothing too graphic, but there is mentions of blood if that's a problem for anyone.

_He was underneath the front porch on Neibolt street._

_He was too big to fit under there easily, like he had when he was a child, his head brushed against the wooden roof and his knees dug uncomfortably into the hard soil below. He couldn’t remember why he was there, but there was a distinct feeling of fear about sitting there. His chest felt tight and his breathing felt erratic. He reached for his inhaler._

_It was the exact same one he had as a kid, and it was still in his pocket. He shook it, uncapped it, and shoved into his mouth giving himself three quick sprays. He could breathe easier now._

_Only, it wasn’t going to be easy for long. He could feel it before he heard it. He could feel the eyes raking over his figure from behind - the goosebumps running down his back and up his arms as IT sat behind him…. Watching him._

_”Back for that blow job, Eds?” Came the raspy voice he remembered from the leper. He turned, and he wasn’t under the porch anymore. He was down in the sewers, facing the clown head on. He could hear water running, he felt his shoes soaking through and the uncomfortable feeling over his feet._

_His voice was caught in his throat. Eddie felt tears stinging in his eyes and he couldn’t think of a thing to say as he stared down the face of IT. For a moment, neither of them moved, but then IT took the first steps. Pacing around Eddie in slow, careful circles. Eddie spun on the spot, not wanting to take his eyes off of him. “You’ll always come back here, Eddie. You’ll always come back here and be as afraid as you are… You’re a coward. You’re a coward and you know it.”_

_”I’m not.”_

_”Then why are you in bed with that bitch?” The clown asked him. Eddie blinked, and when he opened his eyes again… It wasn’t the clown anymore. “Why are you in bed with her, Eddie? You should be with me. You know you should’ve always been with me.”_

_”No… No, I love her. I love Myra, Richie. If I loved you once that… That’s different! Okay? I was just some dumb kid this is where I should be!”_

_’Richie’ stepped forward. Eddie had to force himself to remember that it wasn’t really him, it was IT taking his form. “Richie’s” hand cupped his face, his skin cool to the touch, and then his lips pressed to Eddie’s._

_His lips were warm._

_Eddie leaned into him, a soft whine escaping his throat as he returned the kiss. His hands coming up to cup “Richie’s” face, and again, the thought in the back of his mind was telling him to_ ‘Let go! That’s not really Richie! This isn’t real!’

_But it felt real. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so alive. He felt ‘Richie’s’ tongue prodding against his lips, and he parted his mouth to let him in. Eddie’s knees felt weak as ‘Richie’s’ tongue expertly mapped out his mouth, sucking on his lip, licking at his tongue and leaving him desperate for more. ‘Richie’ parted from his lips, pressing hot and wet kisses to his neck, sucking and leaving marks that left Eddie gasping and moaning, pressing against him in a desire for more._

_’Richie’ nipped his skin. “More.” Eddie whined out. ‘Richie’ nipped him again, playfully tugging at his skin. Eddie’s hands came up to thread into his hair, holding him to his neck. His eyes fell shut. ‘Richie’ licked over his pulse, then bit down again. Hard. Eddie felt the flesh tear away._

_He screamed. His eyes shooting open and it was no longer ‘Richie’ in front of him. His hands were caught in greasy orange hair, the clown grinning at him with Eddie’s blood smeared over his face and muscle and skin caught in his teeth. IT gave him a sickening grin. “You like that, Eds? I could do it again.”_

_He shoved IT away - but it was too late. The damage had been done and Eddie felt weak. He brought a hand up to his exposed flesh, the blood hot against his fingers. He fainted. Falling down, down, down…._

UP. 

**April 26th, 2007 - Kaspbrak/Collins Apartment - New York City, New York**

Eddie shot up in bed. His breathing erratic and he was completely and utterly terrified. He fumbled with his bedside drawer, his vision blurry from just waking up and the lack of glasses on his face. He finally found his inhaler and gave it three shakes before stuffing it into his mouth and breathing down the medicine. His airways cleared. 

“Eddie?” 

Myra’s voice was nervous beside him as she sat up, rubbing his arm gently. “Are you okay?” Myra asked him carefully. Eddie nodded. She clicked on the bedside lamp just as he was settling down his breaths. She gasped. 

“Eddie you’re bleeding!” 

That got him out of bed. Before he registered what he was doing, he was in the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

Indeed, he was bleeding. Not enough to cause any _real_ panic in a normal circumstance. A small amount of blood beading up from bites on his neck. The bites that IT had left there. They weren’t marks of human teeth, like Eddie might’ve expected, but clear punctures in a wide circle over his neck and down onto his shoulder. They reminded him of vampire bites. 

His hand trembled as he reached for the toilet paper, pulling a long strip of it off and folding it neatly. He set it on the counter, and kneeled down to search under the sink. There, he retrieved rubbing alcohol. He dampened the toilet paper with the alcohol and methodically smoothed it over the wounds. 

“Eddie?” He heard Myra from the other side of the door. She tried the handle. “Eddie-bear, are you alright?” He could hear the tears in her voice. His chest tightened. 

“I’m fine, Myra. It’s just a bug bite. Go back to bed.” The smoothness and confidence in his voice took him by surprise. 

“A bug bite!?” Perhaps that wasn’t the best lie. It only instilled a panic in her. “Oh, Eddie, what if you get sick? What if it was venomous? What if I get bitten?” He could hear her footsteps, and he imagined her looking herself over for any signs of a bite. Eddie sighed to himself. “Eddiiiiiiiieeeee.” Myra whined in her high octave. “We have to call an exterminator.” 

“No, we don’t.” The bleeding had started to slow. And while he was about as terrified as he could possibly be _(the dream was real. IT bit you in your dream. IT can hurt you from here. IT can kill you.)_ he managed to keep his voice calm. He looked over the bites again, debating covering them with a bandage… That would only draw attention to them, wouldn’t it? And it would make Myra worry even more. 

“Yes we do! What if you get bit again?! You’re already bleeding, Eddie… They hurt you.” 

“Not they, Marty… IT.” 

“There’s only one?” 

“God, I hope so.” 

Eddie heard her sniffle, and he sighed. He pulled his robe on, adjusting it over his neck to try and hide the slightly swollen marks. He didn’t imagine that they would stay swollen for very long, but he didn’t want Myra to notice just how many marks decorated his neck. He stepped out of the bathroom, and willed her not to notice how pale his face was. 

She didn’t. Instead, she immediately crashed into him. Her face buried against his chest as she held onto him tightly. Eddie nearly stumbled back, but soon eased into her touch, wrapping his arms loosely around her and pressed his nose into her hair. “I’m just fine, Myra. You don’t need to worry about me.” Eddie tried to make it sound as much like a promise as he could. “Would you feel better if we changed the bedsheets? Because I don’t know about you, Marty, but I want to get back to sleep.” 

Myra nodded, detaching from his chest. Eddie realized then she had been crying. And for a moment… He felt that she was pathetic. Crying over her boyfriend getting a bug bite? There was no swell of pity for her, merely disappointment. He brushed his thumbs over her red cheeks to dry her tears, and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You go sit down and relax, okay?” Eddie instructed. “Get yourself some water and calm down. I’ll go change the sheets.” 

She pressed a hard, wet kiss to his lips that Eddie hardly reciprocated before heading off as he instructed. He took a moment once she had gone to lean against the wall behind him. He let the realization of it all wash over him in tidal waves. IT was real. IT was still alive. IT could still reach him. IT could still hurt him. And if IT could do that to him… IT could do that to Richie. 

Eddie cried.

* * *

**April 26th, 2007 - Richie Tozier’s Apartment - New York City, New York**

Richie awoke with a start. 

The fragments of the dream immediately started to escape him, but he clung onto one thing. He had been back in the sewers, a little older than now, and standing side by side with Bill. Then, darkness fell and Richie knew he had been somewhere else. The voice of IT had been ringing in his head, he heard Bill screaming beside him. He screamed too. Then, IT was gone, and Richie was awake. 

His head was pounding, the screams of the monster still seeming to echo in his mind. He rubbed at his temples and looked over at the time. 3:11am, fantastic. 

Richie decided that it was unlikely that he was going to get any sleep soon. He rubbed his eyes and climbed out of bed. He headed off to his bathroom, taking a piss before he went off towards the kitchen. A beer sounded nice right about now. 

He opened his fridge. The emptiness of it really stuck out to him. _Eddie was right._ Richie thought. _You need to start eating better._ He took out a can of beer either way and cracked it open. He took a long drink from it, and closed his eyes, leaning against the counter. 

On the kitchen table, his phone began to ring. 

Richie blinked in surprise. It actually took him a moment to register that indeed, his phone was going off at 3am. He assumed it must be someone calling from out in California, where it was only midnight. He didn’t look at the caller ID - hardly even opening his eyes as he reached for the phone and answered it on the fourth ring. 

“Hello?” The sleep was clear in his voice. 

“Richie?” Eddie spoke on the other end. He didn’t sound too well and the realization had Richie paying immediate attention. 

“Eds?” He could almost feel the ‘don’t call me that’ that must’ve been on the forefront of Eddie’s mind, but Richie didn’t give him the time to, instead, he asked another question. “What’s happening? Are you okay?” 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked him in response, clearly wanting to avoid answering Richie’s question. Richie didn’t take it to heart. Instead, he took a moment.

“Yeah… Just had a weird dream.” Eddie made a strange noise on the other end. “But I’m okay… Why? What happened?” 

“Did IT hurt you?” 

Well, that wasn’t a question Richie expected to hear at all. It stopped him for a moment, and he furrowed his eyebrows. He rolled his shoulders and moved his legs… No, he didn’t feel any sort of ache aside from the dull thud of the headache in his head. Richie concluded that that meant he was doing just fine. “Nothing hurt me. I’m peachy keen.” Richie assured. “Now, do you want to tell me what happened?” He let his voice drop to a softer tone. 

Eddie was quiet. “I don’t have time right now… Myra’s waiting for me.” He finally said. “Can I see you later?” 

“Yeah, of course… Just stop by the shop whenever you can. I’ll be here all day. If I’m not in the store… Uh, find R. They’ll send you upstairs. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Eddie didn’t hang up. “You sure you’re okay?” Richie asked him. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I just… I wanted to hear your…” Richie’s heart ached at hearing it, but Eddie never finished the sentence. “I’ll see you later, Rich.” 

“Can’t wait, Eddie.” 

A beat, and then the line went dead. Richie pushed his hands through his hair and wanted to scream out loud, curse the world, and make Eddie Kaspbrak leave him alone forever. He didn’t think he would ever allow himself to fall in love again, not after everything with Isabelle… But then Eddie fucking Kaspbrak walked back into his life and Richie just couldn’t shake him. 

He downed the rest of his beer in one go. 

Richie had intended to go back to bed, but now, he didn’t think he could. Whatever the hell was going on with Eddie was going to stress and confuse him until he saw him again. Did he have the same dream? Did something happen? Did he get hurt and Richie couldn’t remember it? 

He didn’t like those thoughts one bit. 

Richie closed his eyes, taking in a deep inhale. Exhaustion took him, and although he didn’t desire sleep… He knew he need it. He tossed out his can, and stumbled back off to bed. He fell down flat on his face and hugged his pillow to him. His closed his eyes and before he knew it, Richie was sound asleep again. And this time, it was dreamless.

* * *

It was five in the evening when Eddie finally made his way into the record shop. After drying his tears, changing the sheets, and finally getting himself back to sleep Eddie still had to get up early to hit the road and get to work. But it was kind of nice, he would have to admit. As usual, his customers didn’t talk much and Eddie was able to use driving as a total distraction and take the time to just relax himself. The tension slowly leaving his body over the course of the day only to load back in as the bell of the shop door rang when he came in. 

A quick scan over the store didn’t reveal any sight of Richie. He saw a few customers flipping through CD’s and vinyls scattered around the store, while two employees - one Eddie recognized as Nat - stood side by side organizing a section of CD’s. Eddie imagined it was returns and CD’s people decided not to purchase at the last second. 

“You know,” The one Eddie didn’t recognize spoke. He realized it must’ve been the R that Richie mentioned last night. It hadn’t occurred to Eddie then to ask who R was, but he would have to guess it was them. “You really can’t keep flirting with him the way you do. He is your boss.” 

Nat huffed. “Oh shut up, R.” Well, that confirmed Eddie’s suspicion. “He doesn’t care… And it’s not flirting!” Nat seemed to be trying to seem serious. R merely looked amused by it all. 

“Oh sure, it’s not flirting. And you don’t have a crush on him?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie didn’t want to interrupt, but… 

R turned around, the name confirmed by the name tag on their chest. “What do you need, sir?” The change in tone was painfully obvious; a customer service voice coming through instead. 

“I’m here to see Richie. He told me to come and find you if I didn’t seem him in the shop… Is he upstairs?” 

“So you’re the Eddie I’ve heard so much about?” The customer service voice seemed to drop from R, who looked at him with a slight smirk. “Not from Richie, by the way. From this little gossip here.” They shot a grin to Nat, who pursed her lips. 

“I’m not a gossip…” Nat grumbled, putting a few CD’s into their place. “But yeah, he’s upstairs. He’s been up there for a while… Did you two have plans?” Her curiosity was evident. 

“Just… Something we need to talk about.” Eddie explained vaguely. He adjusted the neck of his shirt. The bite marks were hardly noticeable anymore. The swelling and surrounding redness had gone down, but there was still a series of small scabs which marked the location of each puncture. 

Nat got a small grin on her face at that, and she _almost_ looked like she was about to say something, but R shook their head. “I’ll take you up there.” They instructed, and Eddie willingly followed. R lead him up the stairs around the back of the store, and knocked on the door. 

“Rich?” They called out. “Eddie is here.” 

There was the sound of footsteps rushing to the door, and then it was opened. Quietly - Eddie could hear music playing through the apartment. 

_Meet me in the middle of the day_  
_Let me hear you say everything's okay_  
_Bring me southern kisses from your room_  
_Meet me in the middle of the night_  
_Let me hear you say everything's alright_  
_Let me smell the moon in your perfume_

Romeo’s Tune by Steve Forbert. Eddie recognized the chorus in an instant, and the melody took him back to that day in 1993. A warmth pooled in the bottom of his stomach. “Thanks for bringing him up here safe and sound, R.” 

“Anytime.” They smiled warmly. “Now, about that creativity raise…” There was an arch in their brows, and Richie laughed off the comment like it was a joke. 

“We’ll talk later.” He added, and Eddie wondered if he was joking. He also briefly wondered the context, but he didn’t linger too long on it. Instead, R laughed along and bid them both adieu, stepping back down the stairs presumably to head back to work. 

Eddie stepped into the now familiar expanse of Richie’s apartment and the door was shut behind him. All in the time it took for Eddie to take off his shoes and jacket, Richie had killed the music and started up the coffee maker. 

“Did you want something to drink? Or eat? It’s… Around dinner…” 

“I’ll… I’m not feeling very hungry, Richie.” Eddie confessed. “But I’ll take some water.” Eddie, now that he thought about it, didn’t think he’d be able to speak much if he didn’t have some water to keep his mouth from getting too dry. He took a seat at the table, bouncing his leg lightly. 

“Eds?” It was strange to see him this worked up and nervous. Well, not too strange… But it was unexpected. Richie didn’t like it. 

“IT… IT was in my dreams.” Eddie said, and Richie was silent. He filled up a glass with water for him, keeping his eye on Eddie to indicate that he was listening. “I was... I was in the sewer. And… IT was there, IT took your shape and IT kissed me… And then IT bit me.” He wanted to move past the actual comment about them kissing, so he undid the top two buttons on his shirt, moving it away from his neck and shoulder to reveal the marks. “Then I woke up with these.” 

Richie came towards Eddie with the water. He set it down on the table and looked over the bite marks. His fingers brushing lightly along Eddie’s skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “So, it wasn’t a normal dream?” Richie asked him quietly. Eddie shook his head. 

“I had one too.” Richie added. “A... A dream, last night. That’s why I was awake when you called me.” He explained. “I don’t remember much of it, but it was down in the sewer too… All of us were there, I think. All seven of us. I could feel it. Bill and I… We were fighting IT, and then IT vanished. I woke up then, and I don’t remember anything other than that. It was weird.” Richie stopped, seeming to consider saying more, but decided against it. 

Eddie didn’t pry. 

“So we know it isn’t dead then?” Eddie asked. “Like, for sure this time?” 

Richie nodded after a moment. “Yeah… Yeah, I think that’s pretty safe to say at this point.” 

“How long has it been?”  
“18 years.” Richie told him. “I counted this morning. 18 years this August.” Which meant they only had about nine years or so until they had to go back. Until IT woke up and the killings started to happen again. Eddie paled slightly. “Do you think we should call them?” Richie asked. He wanted to call them. He wanted this to be over and out of the way and let it go. 

But Eddie paled, and shook his head. “They have nine years left, Richie. I don’t want to take that away from them. Maybe we could call Mike but… I don’t think it would be fair to call the rest of them.” 

Eddie was right, and Richie knew it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He watched as Eddie picked up his glass of water and took a long drink from it. 

“I’m scared. If IT can… If IT can do that to me in my dreams, what the hell can IT do to us? What if IT kills all of us before we even get the chance to go back there?” 

“IT won’t.” Richie spoke, an unwavering certainty in IT’s voice. “IT is bound to us as we are bound to IT… If IT just kills us before we even get out there, IT loses. And IT wants to win. IT was just trying to scare you, Eddie. You’re going to be okay.” He finally sat down, scooting his chair closer to Eddie and putting a hand on his good shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.” 

“Myra gave me an ultimatum.” The words came out of nowhere. “She told me I have the end of the month to propose or she’s leaving me.” 

Richie was speechless. The flip in the conversation nearly giving him whiplash. He had to stop a moment, his voice lost as he studied Eddie’s face and tried to figure out _something_ to say to that. 

“Are you going to do it?” 

Eddie only shrugged in response.

Richie dropped his arm off of Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie’s hand immediately grabbed at Richie’s lacing their fingers together. _Oh no._

“Eddie…” Richie spoke carefully. “Do you want to marry Myra?” 

“Yes.” He said immediately, but the words didn’t feel right off of his lips. It was a gut reaction to a question he had answered far too many times. Eddie made a face. “...No. I don’t. I don’t even think I want to get married to anyone. I don’t love her… At least, not like that. I thought I did. I thought I knew what it meant to be in love… And then you came back into my life.” 

Those were the best words that Richie had ever heard, and yet, they cut through him like a dull blade. He felt himself being pulled apart at the seams. 

“Eds…” But Richie was at a loss. 

“I think I’m gay, Richie.” 

“Jeez, you don’t say?” 

“Richie, I’m serious! This… This is a problem for me! I… I don’t know what to _do!_ What about Myra? My mother will kill me. I can’t - I don’t know what I want to do.” 

“But you do.” Richie told him simply, his hand tight in Eddie’s panicked grip, so he used his other to push up his green glasses, setting them back straight on his nose. “If you wanted to be with Myra, you wouldn’t be sitting here telling me that you _think_ you’re gay, right? In fact, I’m pretty sure if you’re questioning your sexuality this badly, having IT put thoughts into your mind of us kissing, and topped off with all these memories of what we used to be-” Richie did not get to finish that sentence because Eddie interrupted him. 

With his lips. 

On Richie’s. 

It was a hard kiss, teeth clashing together and noses squished uncomfortably. It was Eddie moving desperately against him, non-verbally begging him to reciprocate. To sink into him as well and for everything to fall back to how it used to be. Eddie was half convinced that if he got Richie to kiss him, that they’d be together, and he’d have the courage to leave Myra and then they’d be together and everything would be so good. 

But Richie could only think of Isabelle. He wondered if she had been like Eddie. So desperately unhappy and just needing to be in love with someone, and needing to find someone that made her happy - that allowed her to be herself, and if cheating on him was the best thing she could’ve done for herself. 

“No.” Richie pulled back from him first. He tugged his hand out of Eddie’s grasp. Eddie looked crestfallen. Richie softened. “Not like this.” Part of Richie whispered that he wasn’t sure if it would be ever. He didn’t know if he could handle being with Eddie if he was willing to cheat on Myra. “I’m not going to do this to Myra. I don’t know her… But no one deserves to be cheated on. Even if she’s pressuring her very gay boyfriend to marry her. She doesn’t deserve this Eddie. If you want to be with me…” They were teenagers back then. Things might be different now. “If you want to be with me, we can talk about that after you leave your girlfriend. But I’m not going to participate in you cheating on her.” 

 

He could see the moment of Eddie realizing what he had done. He could almost read Isabelle’s name across Eddie’s lips. “Don’t apologize.” Richie added, reaching forward to cup Eddie’s cheek in his hand. “I want to try this too, Eds. I do. Just not like this… If you really want to be with me, you’ll leave Myra.” 

Eddie swallowed thickly. “Okay.” 

Richie stared at him for a moment, taking his hand away from his cheek. “Okay.” He said back. “Okay…” He said again, mostly to himself. 

Eddie rubbed his hands over his face. “You know… You know you’re my best friend, right? That feels so sad, since I haven’t remembered you in like 20 years but… You’ve been my best friend since that summer, and I don’t think that ever changed.” 

Richie managed to crack a smile. It was small, but it was real. “Yeah, me too, Eds.” 

It was an hour later that Eddie left, and he didn’t say anything else on the matter. Richie didn’t ask him either. Both of them knew what Eddie wanted, but neither of them knew if he was willing to take that step.

* * *

**April 29th, 2007 - Collins/Kaspbrak Apartment - New York City, New York**

He kept replaying the kiss with Richie over and over again in his mind. It was his strength, it was the only thing keeping him from looking at the sad, desperate look in Myra’s eyes every time she looked at him - watching to see if he would take a knee and pop the question. But Eddie had more than decided that he wouldn’t. 

It was just a matter of telling her that. 

There was only one day left, but even Eddie was starting to doubt if Myra would actually leave him when the month was up. She was just as attached to him as he was to her. She’d probably give him till the end of the summer. Then till Christmas. Then till the end of the year. Then more and more extensions until Eddie finally stood his ground. 

It wasn’t a cycle that he wanted to be stuck in, but also not one he thought he could get himself out of. Not easily, at least. Everytime he thought he could just _say it_ he’d see the constantly sad look in Myra’s eye and he found the words dying in his throat. 

It wasn’t until early in the morning on April 29th that Eddie would find his way out. 

The phone ringing on his bedside table was immediate cause for concern. It was either work, his mother, or Richie. The buzzing woke him up, and he grabbed at his phone. He didn’t look at the caller ID when he answered it. “Hello?” 

“Eddie?” It was none of the above, which was all the worst. A confused scowl formed on his face. 

“Eddie, who is it?” Myra asked groggily from his side. She was hardly awake. 

“Who is this?” Eddie asked. 

There was a beat of science. A sob. “It’s your aunt Victoria.” Eddie’s back straightened out, and he got out of bed. That didn’t sound good. How did she get this number? 

“Victoria…” He paused, rubbing crust from his eyes. “What’s happening? Is everything okay?” 

She sobbed again, and Eddie could hear her shaking her head against the phone. “It’s… It’s your mother, Eddie. Something happened.” Eddie’s heart dropped to his stomach. 

“What happened?” His voice was so small. He felt like a child. 

“She… She went into cardiac arrest… The doctors they…” She sobbed loudly, damned near wailing. “They couldn’t revive her. She’s… She’s d-d-d-” Victoria couldn’t get the word out. But she didn’t need to. 

“Dead.” Eddie finished for her, and she sobbed again. 

“Dead?” Myra asked, her voice wobbling. He turned back towards her, and he could see her lower lip shaking in fear. 

_Yes, Myra. Dead. My mothers dead, just like my love for you. Huh. Wow, isn’t that fucking crazy? My mother just died and all I can think about is how I can leave you now! Somehow, hurting you seems so much easier without having to worry about the inevitable lecture from my mother! Aren’t I an awful fucking person? But I bet you still want to marry me, don’t you? Pathetic! Don’t you know I’m gay? My mother knew. I bet she did. It wasn’t like I wasn’t obvious! I’m gay! Gay gay gay! Gay and in love with Richie Tozier! God, it sounds like a fucking joke, doesn’t it? Well, it’s not Myra. It’s not and you’re just going to sit there and cry while I feel completely free!_

But Eddie wouldn’t say that. He rubbed his eyes, and found them to be completely dry. He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and set it aside onto the table again. He climbed onto the bed beside her. 

“My mother died.” 

The tears spilled from her eyes in heavy blobs, and a moment later, a sob escaped her. She threw herself at Eddie, wrapping her arms around him in a rib-crushing hug. He still didn’t cry, and Myra seemed to be too wrapped up in her own tears to notice. So, he merely played his part. He held her close, he rubbed her back, he kissed the top of her head and told her it was going to be okay, as though it were her mother instead of his. 

Eddie, for the first time, was thankful for her tears.


	8. intermission: hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, hope pushed him to carry on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild trigger warnings for: minor character death + cancer + infidelity

**May 12th, 1991 - ~~The Denbrough House~~ 403 Witcham Street - Derry, Maine**

It was the last time Bill would look up at that house. And now, he couldn’t even see it as his own. He hadn’t seen it as his own since the October that Georgie was taken away from him, and now, the bright red ‘SOLD’ sign on the front lawn cemented the fact that it would never be his ‘home’ again. 

It was a strange mix of bitterness and relief that filled him. He was going to miss Derry, for the short while that he remembered it. And he knew he was going to miss his friends - again, while he was lucky enough to remember them. 

Bill wondered if he would somehow be different than Beverly and Ben before him, that he would somehow be blessed with the gift of his memories. A forget-me-not present from the Turtle allowing him to hold onto everything that happened in this town. Relieving Mike of the sole duty of holding onto this place and Bill would be able to play his part in drawing them all back when the time came, so that he could take the inevitable blame off of Mike. His gut told him no such pleasure would befall him. 

“Bill?” His mother spoke from the car. The vast majority of their belongings had left 15 minutes prior with his dad in the big moving truck, heading off to Trenton, Michigan. A few extra belongings and things were in the back of their car, which Bill was going to ride in with his mother. 

“O-O-One mi-minute, please. J-J-Just one m-m-more.” They were supposed to be right behind his father, but Bill had insisted on waiting. The rest of them were supposed to come. They were supposed to be there. Bill just couldn’t leave this place behind without one last goodbye to his friends. 

“Bill…” Sharon Denbrough pleaded with her son. She knew why he was waiting. As distant as she had been, she had never completely stopped paying attention. She knew how much time her son spent with his friends… And it really was pitiful to have to sit here and watch the hope leave his eyes as the minutes stretched on and they didn’t come to see him off. 

“Okay.” Bill relented. He didn’t stutter, and went around to head into the car. His hand gripped the handle, and he had been about to pull it open when the sound of Eddie screaming down the street came over his ears. 

“ _Bill!_ ” Eddie screamed. “Fuck, _wait_!” He pedalled harder, turning the corner of Witcham and Jackson on his bike, nearly skidding down the street. Shortly behind him were Stan, Richie, and Mike. Each of them standing up on their bikes as they tried to pedal even faster. Eddie was like a lightning bolt on his bike. He could almost rival Bill on Silver. 

The grin that broke out on Bill’s face nearly split his skin. He ran down the street to meet them halfway. 

“Bill!” His mother shouted from behind him, slightly frustrated, but he didn’t care. He just ran to meet Eddie who jumped off his still moving bike in the middle of the street. The bike dropped to the road, and Eddie fell on his landing, scraping his knees along the pavement and blood spilling from the wounds, but there was no trace of panic nor any signs of pain on his face. No, Eddie just clambered back up to his feet and wrapped Bill up in a tight hug. 

“Sorry we almost missed you.” 

“I-I-It’s o-okay.” Bill hugged him back just as tight. He didn’t want to hear excuses or explanations. He didn’t want to think about the hellstorm Eddie was going to be under when he inevitably returned home with the fresh cuts tearing his knees apart. 

It was only a few seconds later when the others joined them. Slowing to a proper stop, but having just as little care as Eddie when it came to dropping their bikes in the middle of the road. Bill felt arms wrapping around him from all sides. Mike directly behind him, his chin resting on Bill’s head, Stan on his left, and although his arms were technically around Mike and Eddie, Bill felt comforted by them. Stan’s chest was against Bill’s shoulder, and Bill could feel the heaving breaths he was taking. Richie was on Bill’s right. His arms, like Stan’s, weren’t directly on Bill, but his lips were, pressing loud and wet kisses onto his cheek that Bill could only laugh at. 

“We’re going to miss you, Big Bill!” Richie exclaimed proudly. “Gonna miss the shit out of you!” He pressed another handful of kisses upon his cheek. 

“I’m guh-going to miss y-y-you guys tuh-too.” Bill added, squeezing his arms tighter around Eddie. None of them commented on the fact that he absolutely wouldn’t miss them. It hurt too much, no one wanted to be the one to acknowledge it. 

Bill would never be entirely certain of how long he stood there in the middle of the road, surrounded by the love of his friends, holding them for what he both hoped and didn’t hope would be the last time he ever saw them. But eventually, the shouting of his mother for him to get into the car was too much to ignore, so, he detangled himself from their grips. One by one, they stepped away to collect their bikes and move them onto the sidewalk. Bill gave them a final wave, before heading to the car. 

“You got everything?” Sharon asked for what must’ve been the fifth time that day alone. Bill nodded. “You know, you can always call them.” And again - Bill merely gave a nod.

Accepting that he wouldn’t be incredibly talkative at the moment, Sharon let him be. She pulled the car out of the driveway and started down the street. They passed the boys, poised on their bikes, who began to follow the car. Waving and shouting more goodbyes as they drove. Bill rolled down his window, leaning out to look back at them and waving his goodbyes. His eyes burned, and he silently blamed it on the wind. 

Bill watched them chase after the car until the streets became too busy for them to keep up with their bikes. He watched them retreat to the sidewalk, and stay still until they faded completely into the distance. 

Bill wanted to miss them. Wasn’t that tragic? Missing someone was something awful and painful. Bill hated the fact that he was going to miss Georgie every single day of his life. Before he had left Derry, he thought it would be so much better to just forget it all. But now when he was being presented with that exact fact… It made him feel so empty inside. Bill thought being empty was so much worse. 

He elected not to talk. There wasn’t anything that Bill could think to say. Not that he particularly blamed his mother for his having to leave his friends behind, but that didn’t mean he was happy about the move either. Bill merely shut his eyes and leaned back in his seat. He didn’t want to see the ‘NOW LEAVING DERRY’ sign. 

And he didn’t. Silent, he sat in the car with his mother for what must’ve been fifteen minutes before she finally spoke to him. 

“Bill?” Sharon asked. He hummed to acknowledge her. “... Do you mind if I turn the radio on?” 

“No, it’s okay.” Bill notably didn’t stutter. But that wasn’t too uncommon. Sometimes, he’d manage through short sentences without stuttering. Neither he or his mother directly acknowledged that it had happened. She clicked it on. 

_She's the heart of the funfair_  
_She's got me whistling a private tune_  
_And it all begins where it ends_  
_And she's all mine, my magic friend_  
_She says, "Hello, you fool, I love you_  
_C'mon join the joyride."_  
_Join the joyride_

The song played from the radio louder than Bill had expected, and he opened his eyes, straightening his back a little. “Sorry about that, mom.” He explained. “It’s just… It’s hard leaving them all behind. We’re moving like, fifteen hours away… I just… I know I’m never gonna see them again and I guess I’m not ready for that.” 

He spoke so clearly, and without any hint of a stutter that it was very noticeable. He seemed a little surprised with himself, and for a passing moment, Bill felt better. 

“Honey…” Sharon spoke slowly. She didn’t want to get her hopes up by whatever miracle had taken over her son, but Bill was rather invested in this. He spoke again. 

“He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees the ghost. He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees the ghost. Mom, mom do you hear this!? He thrusts his fists against the post and still insists he sees the ghost. He thrusts-” 

“Bill!” Sharon was elated. For the first time in a long time, the two laughed together. She recited the words with him. She’d say a sentence, and he’d repeat it back. They’d laugh together and a giddiness filled the air. Later, she’d cite that it was something in Derry. Something bad about the air about there… Bill knew she had no idea how right she was. But at least this was one thing to look forward to in his moving away. He could speak properly. He could call his friends and they’d actually understand him over the phone. He’d get out of the car a little after midnight with his mother, his dad having arrived shortly before them and they stared up at their new house. Bill would go up to his dad, and start reciting his phrase, met with the stunned laughter of Zack at hearing his son manage through his words without a hint of a stumble. They’d sleep in the living room in sleeping bags that night. Circled together and talking and laughing, up for another hour before falling asleep. 

Yes, leaving Derry was hard, but Bill was certain that night that it was the best thing that could’ve happened to him.

* * *

**September 9th, 1992 - Trenton High School - Trenton, Michigan**

Bill had forgotten everything about Derry. 

And who could blame him? Now free from the confines of his stutter, Bill was able to soar socially. He was new, attractive, and good at sports. All things combined to make him the talk of the town the previous summer when he had started his junior year. And now coming onto his senior year, Bill was leading a picturesque life. At the end of the previous season, he had been named the captain of the baseball team whose season would start in the spring, he had his gorgeous girlfriend Laura, who was a near constant fixture on his arm, and he had been accepted to his school of choice - University of Michigan - for their creative writing program. Yes, everything was falling into place for Bill Denbrough.

“So, you’re sure you can’t come to the party tonight?” Bill asked her where they sat alone together at lunch. They could’ve easily sat with others, but the couple enjoyed the solitude of sitting alone; talking and enjoying each others company. It was the first day back at school, which naturally meant a homecoming party at Eric Kensingtons house that evening. All three Kensington siblings before Eric had hosted homecoming parties, and Eric was merely carrying on the tradition. 

“I really can’t. I got stuck babysitting. Believe me, as much as I would love to ditch my siblings and go with you, Bill…” Laura couldn’t. And her disappointment was evident. Either way, she leaned over to press a sweet kiss onto his cheek. 

“I’ll miss you all night.” Bill told her, hooking his arm over her shoulders and pulling her in close to his side. 

“I miss you every night.” 

“Well, not _every_ night.” Bill remarked, giving a playful little nip to her ear. Laura giggled and her cheeks flushed. 

“Bill not at school!” She swatted his chest playfully, and he chuckled along with her laughter. He let go of her and held up his hands in surrender. 

“Alright but… What about this weekend?” Bill suggested, arching his brow a little and biting his lip. 

“Hmm…” Laura pretended to think, as if their weekend meet-up, fuck, and then cuddle wasn’t already a regular part of their schedule. “We’ll see.” She teased. Bill feigned a look of disappointment which again made Laura laugh. She pressed a soft kiss onto his lips. “I love you, Bill.” She meant it. 

“I love you too.” Bill was convincing.

* * *

**September 9th, 1992 - Eric Kensington’s House - Trenton, Michigan**

Perhaps it was Bill’s overconfidence in how perfect everything in his life was that lead to him absolutely destroying everything. 

He hadn’t planned on it happening when he first arrived at the party. But Ashley had deep auburn hair that fell in loose curls and framed the green eyes on her face that felt so intimately familiar and had Bill absolutely smitten with her from the moment he saw her. 

And her hair looked even prettier fanned out around her on Eric Kensington’s bed, while her body rocked in time with Bill’s, her heels pressing into his back and soft cries and pleads for more tumbling from the plush lips that Bill couldn’t seem to stop kissing. 

Bill had thought he’d get away with it. 

And why wouldn’t he? Ashley was from out of town, and sure, before they parted from Eric’s bedroom she had stopped him with a “Wait.” And scrambling around his desk to find a slip of paper and pen, where she wrote in her phone number requesting that he gave her a call. 

And sure, Bill had agreed and tucked the slip into his pocket. 

Everything had been going so damned well for him over the past year, why would this go wrong too? He shared one more kiss with her at the door, before rejoining the party. 

No one said a word about it to him that night, so when he returned home slightly tipsy a little after 2am, Bill didn’t think much of it.

* * *

Bill woke up the following morning exhausted. He hadn’t drank enough to give himself a hangover, but he had been out far too late. He pulled himself out of bed, lazily dressed himself, and headed downstairs to make himself a bowl of cereal. His father was not yet awake, but his mother was up and having her regular morning coffee. They chatted briefly, Sharon asking him about the party and he answered her questions (naturally, leaving out the parts about his hook-up with the lovely Miss Ashley) before he picked up his car keys and headed out to pick up Laura for school. 

The old rusted sedan wasn’t anything special. It was fifteen years old and had been used twice when Bill bought it, but damn if he wasn’t proud of the thing. While the outside made it look like it was falling apart, the inside was damned near immaculate. 

He pulled up to Laura’s house, and she wasn’t at the porch as usual. Bill didn’t think much of it. But as a few minutes passed and there was still no sign of her, he was getting worried. Was she sick? Did something happen? He got out of the car, and headed up to the door. He gave three short knocks, and her mother answered. 

“Bill? Oh, did Laura not tell you?” The woman was kind, she didn’t sense anything wrong. “Melanie came by and picked her up for school early. She left about 20 minutes ago.” 

“Oh, I had no idea. Sorry, Mrs Jones… I didn’t know.” Bill smiled towards her. He had always been good with parents, and he was keen to keep up his reputation. “Sorry to bother you.” He bid her goodbye, and he still wasn’t worried. 

He hadn’t been worried until lunch. 

Laura didn’t sit with him as she normally did. Instead, she sat with Melanie, Kristen, Trisha, and Naomi huddled close together and with the occasional glare shot over their shoulder towards Bill. Save for Laura, who didn’t look at him once. 

Yes, that was enough to get him worried. Melanie had been at the party, hadn’t she…? Surely, she couldn’t have… 

Bill felt sick the rest of the day. 

At the end of the school day, he went right to Laura’s locker to wait for her. When she came over, she opened her locker, and made no verbal acknowledgement of Bill. But that did nothing to hide the tears that he saw burning in her eyes. The sight made him feel awful. 

“Laura… Can I drive you home?” The question was tender, and laced with sweetness. Wordlessly, she nodded. 

Bill waited patiently as she sorted out her belongings, and didn’t pressure her to talk until they were safe within the confines of his car. “Laura…” He began slowly, but she didn’t allow him to speak. 

“Was she a good fuck? Did you like it?” She snapped immediately. Her tears rolled down her cheeks in thick drops, within a second, her face appeared to be soaked and red. “Was it fucking worth it, Bill?” 

Anything else Bill could’ve said died in his throat. A moment of silence, of Laura staring at him passed. The air seemed to be sucked out of the car, and Bill felt like he was suffocating. 

“I’m sorry.” Bill decided upon. Although, he knew full well that his apology wouldn’t make a difference. “I don’t know what came over me, Laura. But no, it wasn’t worth it. Nothing is worth losing you. I love you, Laura.” The words sounded as hollow as Bill felt saying them. Laura knew it. 

“I don’t think you ever loved me, Bill… I don’t think you can love anyone.” 

Bill hated to admit it, but he figured that Laura might’ve been right. He started up the car, and without any more words passing between the two, he drove her home. He didn’t walk her up to the door and kiss her goodbye like he normally would. She didn’t try to invite him in, and Bill didn’t blame her. It didn’t need to be said, but their relationship was over. 

Which was why when he was finally back upstairs in his bedroom at home, he called Ashley. 

He might not have ever loved Laura like he should have, but Ashley made him feel something so intimately familiar and real. Perhaps if he was going to fall in love with anyone, it would be her… And was that such a bad thing? Was he the bad guy for wanting to chase love? 

After three rings, there was an answer. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi… Is Ashley there?” 

“This is.” A pause. “Bill?” 

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

There was a pause from the other end, as Ashley took in a deep breath. “Fuck you.” 

That was not at all what Bill had been expecting to hear, and he really didn’t like hearing it either. He frowned. “Ashley? What’s the matter?” 

“Oh, don’t play stupid, Bill.” Her words cut through him harshly. “After we fucked I have to find out from someone else that you have a girlfriend? What kind of piece of shit are you?” 

Bill ran his hands over his face. “Sorry I called.” He told her, instead of arguing with that fact, and hung up the phone. 

That night, he wrote. He wrote a lot. He wrote about heartbreak, and didn’t forgive himself in his words. He knew he was the one to blame, but he still couldn’t get Ashley out of his head. Particularly, that beautiful red hair which made him immediately fall in love. That one particular shade… Bill just couldn’t explain what it was about her hair that made her so special to him… But he was scared to find out.

* * *

**March 29th, 1993 - Beaumont Hospital - Trenton, Michigan**

Bill’s affair had done nothing to stop his popularity. In some ways, it had boosted it. Guys clapped his back as he passed them in the hall, and they asked Bill about any other hot lays he might have had. And he nearly always had something. No girl really wanted to date him after the news broke, but that didn’t stop them from wanting to sleep with him with no strings attached. And Bill was not one to deny himself the pleasure. However, none of them stood up to Ashley. There were times when he thought no one would feel as good to him as Ashley did. 

That all came to a stop on Christmas Day of 1992. The Christmas that the whole Denbrough family spent in the hospital, only to leave on December 26th with the news that Zack had been diagnosed with lung cancer. He wasn’t given more than a year to live. 

By March, with his condition worsening and nothing the doctors could do seemed to be helping, they didn’t think he’d be able to make it through the month. 

It was early in the morning on March 29th. Sharon was asleep in the bed adjacent to her husbands. It was well after visiting hours, but with Zack on his last leg of life, the nurses took pity on them and let them stay there. 

“Bill?” His father asked. Bill hadn’t even been aware that Zack was awake. He blinked, straightening up a little in his seat as he looked over towards him. 

“Yeah?” 

Zack took in a breath. His heart rate on the monitor dipped, just a little. “Could you run down to the vending machine? Get me some water?” He asked. 

Bill nodded, standing up and without much else needing to be exchanged between the two of them, he made his way down to the vending machine at the other end of the ward. 

He was lucky enough not to hear the flatline that went off not 20 seconds later, but he did see the nurses and doctors rushing into their room. His hands shook as he went through the motions of getting the water from the machine anyways. He gripped the bottle tight in his hands as he made his way towards the room. He heard his mother crying. He heard the doctors yelling off medical terminology which was all a dull buzz in his ears. 

But, he did understand the phrase “Time of death… 1:02 am.” 

He watched the nurse escort his sobbing mother from the room, and Bill stepped to her immediately. He embraced his mother tightly and squeezed her close to him. Bill was speechless. He dropped the water bottle to the floor, where it landed with a dull thud. 

For the rest of his life, Bill would wonder if his dad knew what was about to come and sent Bill out on purpose to spare him from having to watch his father die, or if it was just some sick coincidence… He didn’t know which was more comforting.

* * *

**November 15th, 1995 - University of Michigan - Ann Arbor, Michigan**

“What do you think is the meaning behind the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock? Why is it so particular? - Prentis?” 

A girl who Bill solely knew as ‘Prentis’ from this literary analysis class spoke up from the back of the room. “Well, green is the colour of envy. And we know Gatsby is envious of Tom, for being with Daisy. But I think he also envies the idyllic life that Daisy and Tom appear to have, while he is all alone. So, not only does the light represent the longing Gatsby feels for Daisy, but also his desire to have the picturesque life that he believes she is living.” 

Bill had to laugh at that. Later, he’d feel bad for laughing at her. Prentis didn’t deserve that. But in the meantime, it did draw attention from his professor. 

“Mr Denbrough?” Professor Roberts was Bill’s least favourite professor. Perhaps it stemmed largely from Bill’s distaste towards this whole class and everything it stood for, but the man was just so damned pretentious that Bill couldn’t take a single thing that he said seriously. “What is it you find so funny?” 

Bill let his face drop. Around the room, dozens of eyes landed on him, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Why does everything have to have this deep intense meaning?” Bill asked. “Like, this class… Symbolism in colour. This is a story about the American Dream and how frivolous it is. Why can’t a light… Just be a light? It’s a sign of Daisy. It’s the mark of her house across the lake. Why does it have to be so deep and have all these different layers? Why can’t a story just be a story?” 

He could practically see the vein ready to pop out of Professor Roberts head. “If stories were just stories, then we wouldn’t have classes like this.” 

“Maybe we shouldn’t.” Bill argued. “Look, I don’t know what was going through Fitzgerald’s head when he was writing that light, but I know when I write something… I don’t make all of this symbolism. I don’t make everything have some deep hidden meaning for readers to sit in a class like this and argue and discuss because that doesn’t make it a story! At that point, it’s a scavenger hunt. It’s a contest to see who can pull the deepest shit out of their ass.” The pun was unintended. “Stories are supposed to be fun. They’re supposed to entertain, to take you out of your own world for a while. They’re not supposed to be this… Puzzle of meaning and bullshit.” 

Professor Roberts gaped at him. The class fell dead silent, but Bill stood his ground, staring back at him, waiting for him to formulate some sort of response. 

“You will never be a successful writer if you write without meaning, Mr Denbrough.” Roberts finally decided on. 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Bill argued. “Your stories can have meaning, but when every single little detail is a puzzle piece… That’s ridiculous! No one cares!” 

“I care.” 

“My point still stands.” 

Perhaps that was not the best way to talk to someone who would decide his grade in this course, but Bill stood by his values and what he believed in - and what he believed in was that this class was ridiculous. 

But Roberts wasn’t going to let Bill off of the hook that easily. No, he walked around to his desk and leafed through a stack of papers. Short stories submitted by students. It didn’t take rocket science for Bill to figure out that his own work was about to be torn to shreds. 

“The Dark by William Denbrough is a loose collection of words recounting the events of a young boy being scared of the darkness in his basement because of an unseen entity lurking in the shadows that proceeds to kidnap the boy and he is never seen again. Now, can anyone tell me what this story means? Someone other than Mr Denbrough himself?” Professor Roberts shut down Bill’s pointedly raised hand. 

A boy to Bill’s left answered. “Nothing?” 

“Correct.” 

“It does mean something. I’m sorry, it isn’t layered and shrouded in symbolism? The moral of the story is to trust your gut. He was scared, but he proceeded anyways, and that’s what got him killed. If he had just trusted that something was wrong he would’ve been fine. Or do I need to spell it out within the work?” 

“There is absolutely no substance to this work, Mr Denbrough.” 

“It’s just a story! It’s supposed to scare! Did you feel uneasy when you read it? Did you care about the boy? Did you worry for him?” Roberts didn’t answer. “If you did, then it did it’s job! There’s nothing wrong with it!” 

“You have failed the assignment.” 

That was the last straw for Bill. He haphazardly shoved his things into his bag, and tossed it over his shoulder. He moved from his desk and down towards Roberts, he snatched the paper from his hands and folded it in half. “I’d rather fail than spew some bullshit.” Bill made sure he took the last word, before storming out of the class.

* * *

Perhaps it wasn’t the best move to make, storming out his class after fighting with his professor like that, but Bill stuck to his beliefs and he had been proud of that story! He wanted to prove that he was right and that Roberts needed to get his head out of his ass. 

Unsolicited stories weren’t something that was encouraged in the field. But the men's magazine regularly published short (typically horror) stories between the pictures of half-naked women on motorcycles. Bill always told himself that he got a subscription for the stories (which he did read!) but he knew that wasn’t completely the case. 

He retyped The Dark, exactly as he had submitted it to Professor Roberts, and mailed it off to the P.O Box address attached to the magazine. Bill wasn’t expecting to hear much back, but he hoped. 

Two weeks later, he received a letter and a cheque. The magazine loved it and had bought it for seven hundred dollars. Bill was absolutely floored at the news. It was the best thing that he had ever heard. 

It was the next month when the edition when his story was published in it, and immediately, Bill tore the page of his story out of the magazine. He took a sharpie to the paper, scrawling _SOMETIMES STORIES ARE JUST STORIES. IT DOESN’T MEAN THEY AREN’T GOOD._ across the photo of the scantily clad woman, and heading right down to Professor Roberts office, where he pinned it onto the bulletin board outside of his office. Was it incredibly petty? Absolutely. But was Bill going to regret it? Never. 

With a newfound surge of confidence, Bill dropped out of school after that semester, and threw himself into writing. He sat in his apartment, writing in every spare moment he had. All too many nights were spent up late writing like a madman just trying to get everything he was thinking onto paper. 

The first story he completed was The Black Rapids, a five-hundred page novel about a creature lurking underwater and swallowing up unsuspecting victims. The story followed the young man who was the only one who believed in such a creature, and his battle of wits against it. 

Publishers scrambled to give him the best deal, and Bill ended up having to hire a literary agent to help him sort through all the prospects and get to the best choice. Eventually, his debut novel sold for fifty-thousand dollars and royalties - something much higher than most beginner novelists. But it was worth it. The novel immediately soared to the top of every bestseller list, and within a year had a movie adaptation in the works, and Bill Denbrough was suddenly an overnight success.

* * *

**October 18th, 1997 - The Bean - Los Angeles, California**

The Bean was Bill’s favourite coffee shop. 

It was small, and quiet despite the city. He was normally able to take a table in the back and not have to worry about anyone seeing him or coming up to talk to him. Coincidentally, it was also his favourite place to write. 

It was unusual to find him there without a notebook, word processor, or typewriter in front of him, but that was because today… Bill had a guest. 

“Where do your ideas come from, Bill?” Audra Phillips asked him kindly. Her hand extended over the table and lightly brushing her fingers against his. There was a softness in her face, which Bill could only describe as _beautiful._ With her creamy pale skin, shining green eyes, light freckles across her cheeks, and shining auburn hair, she was a real life replica of Jessica Clarke - the protagonist’s love interest in The Black Rapids, which made her a perfect casting choice. 

Bill, to contrast, wasn’t much of a looker. He wasn’t even thirty yet and already his gut was starting to fill out, crows feet formed at the corner of his eyes, and his hairline was rapidly receding to the point he doubted that he’d have hair in the new century. Perhaps that was merely the cost of great success, like Bill had received. Since the success of the Black Rapids a mere two years ago, Bill had published two other books which only seemed to surpass the Black Rapids in terms of financial gain. He was sure movies for those books would come up on the horizon soon. 

“Whenever people ask me that… I always pull some answer out of my ass.” Bill confessed to her. “I say it comes to me in a dream… Or that it’s based on true events.” That earned a giggle out of Audra. “But… Really it doesn’t… Come from anywhere. I don’t think about it. I don’t… I don’t plan out a whole story before I start writing. I’m hit with a concept, and I run with it. I let it flow naturally and I let the story tell itself… Of course, that’s not the answer everyone wants to hear. Everyone wants to hear me say that I’m such a great writer. That I have ghosts in my head and I need to let them out on paper… But that’s not the case. There isn’t a lot that scares me, Audra. My stories aren’t an outlet. They’re a pastime.” 

The words were simple, and far from any romance, but Audra swore it was those words that made her fall in love with Bill Denbrough.

* * *

**June 3rd, 2002 - Ace Hotel - Los Angeles, California**

To say there were ‘whispers’ surrounding their marriage was an understatement. The tabloids made their suspicions about the union between the pairing evident. Many speculated that Audra was likely just using Bill for the money and the boost he had given her career. He was only three years her senior, but he looked much older. (His prediction had been correct. Come the new millenium, his hair was nearly all gone. He decided to shave off the rest, and embrace his baldness.) 

Yes, many suspected that it was a marriage of convenience between the pair without an ounce of real love between them, but anyone who knew them well knew that wasn’t the case. 

Audra and Bill had never been anything but a perfect match. In conversation, they were both quick-witted and always seemed to make each other laugh. They always sat close, holding hands and whispering in each others ears, making each other giggle and blush. It was like a never-ending honeymoon stage between them. 

After a year of dating, they had moved in together, after two years, they were engaged, and on June 3rd, 2002, they were finally joined together at the Ace Hotel in Los Angeles, surrounded by family, friends, and paparazzi. 

They wrote their own vows. 

“Audrey Philpott,” Bill began - he refused to use her stage name during their wedding… Although he had never actually called her Audrey during their relationship. “You have made me the happiest man alive. Everyday with you is a day I look forward to. You’re smart, you’re brave, you’re sweet and incredibly talented. You let me know that a sad sack like me still has something you can love about him, and you let me fall in love with you every single day. Everything I do, I do for you, my dearest. And from the moment I met you, I knew I would be standing here with you one day… Audrey Philpott, my Audra, I can’t wait to leave this place as your husband. This is all I have ever wanted, and I vow that I will make every day whatever you want it. I vow to always stick by your side, whatever you may need. I vow to never hurt you, to tell you a lie, or to leave you behind. I will be your protector and your best friend… But most of all, I vow to love you, and to never stop loving you.” 

In the moment, he meant every single word.

Audra teared up, and he didn’t realize that his own eyes were damp until he noticed them in hers. He smiled warmly at her, wishing he could lean over to kiss those tears out of her eyes. 

But instead, she began to speak.

“William Denbrough.” She also never called him William, no one did, and Bill realized how strange it must’ve been for him to call her Audrey. “Bill.” She was quick to correct. “You made me see the world in a way I had never seen it before. You fill my world with so much light and colour and you make every day feel like something special. Every view you have is so… uniquely you, and it reflects in everything you do. I can’t begin to explain how lucky I am to have you, my love.” She brought up a hand to wipe at her eyes. “I vow… to always be there when you need a shoulder to cry on. To be your love and support. I vow to keep you from getting too lost in your words and forgetting to care for yourself. I vow to always see you for what you are, which is absolutely beautiful. I vow to be your wife, and to be with you until the end of time.”

Bill felt the tears slip down his cheeks, and he smiled at the woman who a few short moments later became his wife with a sweet kiss to her lips. 

Yes, Bill would recount this as the most important day of his life. Proclaiming his love for Audra Phillips in the face of all the naysayers who believed that their union was inherently _wrong._ But by God, was Bill ever happy. He was happy when they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, he was happy when they shared champagne and fed each other pieces of their wedding cake. He was even happy when Audra smushed his piece into his face. He was happy when he held her close as they shared their first dance together, and many other dances that evening. He was happy when he unzipped her dress and slid it off of her beautiful form. He was happy when he filled her with himself - condoms not on their packing list for the wedding night - and he was happy when she fell asleep curled up in his arms, her head on his chest and her auburn hair tickling his nose. 

He was happy, until the moment just before he shut his eyes. Then, there was a flicker. The smallest shred of doubt that Audra was not the one who he truly wanted to be with.

Bill fell asleep with a frown on his face.

* * *

**May 12th, 2007 - London City Airport - London, England**

Bill kissed his wife for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. They were sitting at the terminal, waiting for Bill to be called to board his plane to New York City. He was about to embark on the publicity tour for his latest novel, The Glowing, and Audra was having to stay behind at their home in the countryside. 

“I’m going to miss you, Bill.” Audra told him, for what must’ve also been about the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Bill found it sweet, and chuckled, his hand resting on the small of her back. 

“I’ll miss you too, Gingersnap.” He cooed the silly nickname with affection, pressing a kiss to her hair. “But I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.” He promised. 

“It’s six weeks, Bill. I’m going to notice you’re gone.” 

“Not with all the texts, and phone calls, and video calls, Audra.” He promised her. “It’ll be like I never even left. Besides, you’re going to be busy with that little movie you’re working on… Hmm… What little movie might that be again?” 

“The Attic Room.” Audra let out a giggle as she said it. 

“Ah, right. The Attic Room. The next hit movie based on whose novel?” 

“Yours.” 

They both fell into a small fit of laughter, their heads leaning together and their hands finding each other on impulse and clasping together. Bill loved her very much, and she knew it well. There wasn’t a day that went by that Bill didn’t make his passion known. 

“Now starting priority boarding for Flight 027.” Spoke the attendant at the desk into a microphone. That was Bill’s cue. He shared another kiss with Audra. 

“I’ll call you the moment I touch down in New York, alright?” He stood up, pulling his carry-on messenger bag over his shoulder. “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone, Mrs Denbrough.” The name always made Audra smile. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to kiss him once more, making it last. She wanted to remember it. 

“You better, Mr Phillips.” Audra teased, and Bill let out a small laugh at that. He wrapped his arm around her in a light hug, he squeezed her hip. 

“You gotta let go, Audra. I gotta go.” He kissed her cheek again, stepping away from her. He didn’t appear to be happy about it. “I love you.” He told her. 

“I love you too.” She stayed where she was, letting him walk off to board on his own. “Fly safe.” 

“I’ll wear my seatbelt.” Bill assured her, finally turning around to walk properly. He walked up to the flight attendant, and presented his boarding pass. She looked it over for a moment, before motioning Bill ahead and onto the plane. 

His first class seat was comfortable, and he soon pulled out his laptop to start tapping away on the next novel he was working on. It would keep him occupied for the duration of the flight. Bill hardly even noticing the passage of time while he worked. He had a few drinks and he ate food when the attendants came around with it, but otherwise, he was completely absorbed in it. He wrote over one hundred pages by the time the plane landed. He shut his laptop and put it back into his bag. He thanked the attendants, and got off the plane. 

As promised, he called Audra while he waited for his luggage and went through customs. Everything went as smoothly as ever, and within an hour, Bill was heading out to go and look for whatever ride his agent had set up. 

“Alright, baby. I’ve got to go. My rides here. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel.” 

Audra said her goodbyes, and hung up on her end. Bill pocketed his phone, and stepped towards the well dressed man carrying a sign with his name. He was on the shorter side, had light brown hair which curled as the edges and wore wire framed glasses which sat straight on the bridge of his nose. 

“Afternoon, Mr Denbrough.” The man greeted, extending his hand towards him. Bill shook it. “I’m Eddie Kaspbrak. I’ll be driving you around while you’re in New York. I can give you my number, or your agent will have it. But if you wanna go anywhere, you just give me a call.” 

Eddie Kaspbrak… The name was familiar in the back of his mind. Had he driven him before? Bill couldn’t recall. But Eddie didn’t show any sign of recognition, so Bill didn’t ask. He merely thanked him, made a point to get his number, and followed him out to the car at the front of the airport. They didn’t talk much on the ride to the hotel, Bill only asking him for his number which Eddie recited from memory and Bill punched into the contacts on his phone. Eddie Kaspbrak. The name stuck with him. When they got up to the hotel, Eddie got out to open the door for Bill, then retrieved his suitcase from the trunk. 

“Give me a call if you need a ride, Mr Denbrough.” Eddie told him again. Bill wondered if this was customary treatment. 

“I will. Thanks, Mr Kaspbrak.” 

“Please,” Eddie laughed. “Just call me Eddie.” 

“Then call me Bill.” 

“Will do, Bill.” There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but Bill didn’t seem to identify it. 

“I’ll see you around then, Eddie.” He gave him a small salute. Eddie waved in return, before getting back into his car. 

“I’ll see you around, Bill.”

And then he was gone, and Bill was stuck with a strange sense of _longing_ in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i know! i left eddie and richie on a cliffhanger but i really needed to get this chapter out there and start talking about bill! you guys needed to catch up with him! but i promise, the next chapter will be back to regularly scheduled programming <3


	9. step seven: let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie comes to terms with himself.

**April 29th, 2007 - JFK International Airport - New York City, New York**

Going back to Derry was never going to be easy, and Eddie had always known that. He had always thought, in the back of his mind, that going back home without his mother’s overbearing figure looking down at him would make things better. That he'd be able to go and say his final goodbyes to that hellish place and never look back... But that just wasn't going to be the case this time, was it? No, Eddie would never be so lucky.

He had to pack for both him and Myra, because somehow, she had ended up being more distraught than he was. Briefly, Eddie wondered if she knew that this would be the end for them both. That this was going to be the straw that broke the camel's back and he was finally going to be able to escape the tight grip that she had built around the shackles that his mother still held on him.

"Why aren't you upset?" Myra had asked him during the brief lull between her bouts of sobbing. Eddie, every time, wondered if this was going to be the last tears she shed before she pulled herself together. And every time, it hadn't been. He wouldn't get so lucky.

"I am, Marty." He spoke, and he almost was offended at the insinuation. Perhaps he wasn't actually as upset as he should be over the death of his mother, but to have his girlfriend implying that he wasn't, just because he hadn't shed a tear or really uttered a single word while he packed their belongings...

Alright, perhaps she did have reason to think he wasn't upset. But that didn't mean he was going to admit to it. And that certainly didn't mean that he was going to say that he was happy about her death. Absolutely not.

"We just need to go. We need to get back to Maine and-" His words caught in his throat, the way Eddie hated so much. In the way that reminded him of how _fragile_ he was. He wheezed, trying to catch his breath but it wouldn't quite come to him. Myra's stubby fingers searched through the bedside table until she found the inhaler. She shook it for him, and Eddie took it from her grip. _Inhale. Squirt. Exhale. Inhale. Squirt. Exhale. Inhale. Squirt. Exhale._ Despite having not used the device in months, and wondering if it was expired or not, Eddie felt his throat clear up and his words become easier again. "We have to get down to Maine... We'll need... We're going to have to help get everything organized. It'll take a while. We're going to be gone for a little while, Myra..."

Slowly, Myra listened to his words and nodded. She brought up her hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks although it didn't do much, as they were still falling from her eyes. "Okay." She told him, pulling herself from bed and starting to dress herself. Eddie was relieved. The sooner they got to Maine, the sooner they'd get to come back home, right? "I can't believe she won't get to see our wedding."

Eddie's throat went dry, and he decided against commenting.

It wasn't long after that they ended up sitting in the airport. The next flight out to Portland was leaving at 8:43am and he had boarding passes tucked into his jacket pocket. They had been sitting and waiting in the airport since 6am, and now, as it was approaching 8am, Eddie thought it was late enough that he could start making arrangements for them. He needed to have someone take his driving shifts for the next week, and have someone check in their apartment to water the plants and keep everything dusted _(Richie)_ and yes, Eddie supposed he would have to call Richie too. Even if just to have someone to talk to who wasn't Myra.

"I'm going to make some calls." Eddie told Myra, breaking the silence that had taken over them for the past hour. Perhaps, there was nothing that was worth saying. While he wanted to just cut everything off with Myra and end what remained of their relationship, he had already bought the plane ticket and in a strange way, Myra had loved Sonia Kaspbrak (perhaps more than she loved Eddie) and he wasn't going to take her funeral away from her. Even if he didn't particularly like his mother, she deserved to be buried surrounded by people who cared about her. Eddie believed everyone deserved that sort of honor.

He squeezed Myra's knee and stood up to step away from her, and his own mortality was considered. If it were him who died, who would be at his funeral? Myra? Well, not when he told her he was gay. _If_ he told her he was gay. Was this only the first (second? Twelfth?) procrastination on something he could never do? Would he marry her, and die and leave her a sobbing widow who would never know that her husband had never loved her? Would anyone else show up? Perhaps his aunt... She was his only living relative now. Or would she bite the dust before him? Would Richie be there? Would he get the other Losers to come to a funeral for a boy they had forgotten? Would his co-workers come? Would any of them even be sad or would they just see attending his funeral as an obligation? What about Lisa Reynolds? Would she come? Or would that be unprofessional? She wasn't his friend, as much as Eddie liked to think that she was. He was only a client to her. And one day, he was going to die and it wouldn't matter a lick to her except she'd lose out on a couple hundred dollars every two weeks. At least, until some other sad sap afraid of their own shadow showed up at her office.

Eddie dialed the number for his office.

"Six Star Driving Company. This is Penelope speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hey, Penelope. It's Eddie." He kept his voice low. As usual, the New York airport was buzzing with activity. Eddie didn't want to bother other patrons or be overheard. He didn't need to spread his personal details around. As though someone would care.

"Oh hey Eddie! What can I do for you? Running late or something? You know you're not scheduled till 10, right?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I know. I... I need the week off. My mother died... I'm at the airport about to go back to Maine. I'm sorry it's so last minute-" 

"Oh, Eddie... I'm so sorry... I'll pass the message along. Don't you worry about anything, okay?" She told him, speaking softly, as though she were talking to a child. Any other time, Eddie would have resented the tone of voice. But it was comforting right now. It reminded him of his mother. He felt his shoulders drop.

"Thank you."

"No problem. It's the least I can do... Do you have any idea of when you'll be back?" She seemed hesitant to ask the question, and Eddie couldn't blame her.

"I'm not entirely sure." Eddie confessed. "It shouldn't be longer than a week? I don't know. I'll call later tonight or tomorrow when I can have a more solid idea. I really don't... I hardly even know what happened." He explained. And Penelope didn't push him for any more answers.

"Of course. Just call whenever you can, and take care of yourself, okay? Myra's with you, right?" Penelope didn't mean anything by it, Eddie knew she thought Myra would be a great comfort for him, but really, she was going the opposite. Despite it going against all logic, Eddie felt a surge of anger towards Penelope. Wasn't it obvious just how unhappy he was with every single detail of his life? How wrong it all was? 

Everything, except Richie.

"Yes, she's with me." Eddie knew he sounded stiff, but he didn't have the time to care. "I'll call soon. We're about to start boarding." They weren't. But Penelope didn't need to know that.

"Alright. Take care Eddie... And I'm sorry again."

"Thank you. Bye, Penelope." He didn't listen for her to say goodbye back, and just hung up. Briefly, Eddie glanced back towards Myra. She was sitting in the same spot, tears starting to drip from her eyes again. Another spurt of anger ran through him. Couldn't she stop!? It's not like it's her mother who died! Fucking hell! 

But at least she wasn't looking at him. At least Eddie was able to call Richie, and Myra wouldn't be able to tell the difference. 

The phone rung five times before the sleepy voice of Richie picked up on the other end. "Eds?"

And just like that, the anger dissolved.

Eddie really felt himself fall to ease, and he felt a warmth spread through him. This one comfortable and one he felt so _desperate_ to cling to. As though his life depended on it. 

"Richie." He didn't want to say anything else. He just wanted to live in the peace of hearing Richie talking in his ear about nothing. He wanted to close his eyes and sink down onto the floor and let the familiar voice carry him away until he was safe and everything was alright. He wanted the voice in his ear all the time, telling him that everything was going to be just fine and that he didn't need to worry and that he was doing fantastic. That he didn't need to worry about burying his mother. That he didn't need to worry about breaking up with Myra. That he could just take his place in Richie's bed and stay there the rest of his life. But nothing could be that easy. Even Richie wouldn't allow it to be that easy for Eddie. 

"What's wrong?" He asked - breaking the flow of Eddie's wishful thinking. 

"Does something have to be wrong for me to call you?" Eddie asked him. He heard Richie almost chuckle on the other end. Eddie thought he'd be able to listen to that sweet sound for the rest of his life.

"When it's eight in the morning and you've got nothing else to say... Yeah, I'd say that means something's wrong, Eddie." He paused. "... Look, if you don't wanna talk about whatever it is I won't make you. But you know my door's always open for you, right? You know... You know I'm here for you, whatever's getting you down we can work it out." 

The words were sweet as honey. In a strange way, it was exactly what Eddie needed to hear. He would've liked to be able to take Richie up on those words. To do just that - to run to him like he had done throughout all of his childhood. Wouldn't that be fucking poetic? A childhood of running away from his mother into Richie's open arms to be concluded finally with his mother's funeral, which he doesn't even attend because once again, he ran right back into the comfort of Richie's arms? 

_No._ Eddie told himself. _This is it. This is the last time. This is where you get to say goodbye and you finally stop running away from everything. You get to move forward. You get to let go._

"Eds?" 

Evidently, Eddie been quiet for longer than Richie would've liked. Eddie himself had gotten lost in his thoughts and he wasn't sure how long it had been. He checked his watch - it was only 8:03. There was still forty fucking minutes until his plane would be taking off and he was still just standing there unable to tell Richie something that he'd be happy to hear! It had been so easy to tell Myra and Penelope, why was he having such a hard time with Richie? 

"I'm sorry." Eddie told him. "I... I need you to do me a favour. I have to go. For about a week, I think? I don't know. I don't... I'm going back to Maine and I need someone to watch the apartment. We have plants."

"Myra's going with you?" Richie asked. Eddie let out a 'mhm' to confirm. "... Why are you going back to Maine?" 

Eddie knew the question was inevitably going to come. He figured Richie wasn't assuming Eddie's mothers death to be the cause of his absence. Unbeknownst to Eddie, Richie was thinking the very opposite. Richie was worried that it was to celebrate an engagement.

"She's dead."

"... Sonia?"

"Yeah... Yeah, her. The one and only. I'm sorry you lost your lover." It felt wrong to joke about, and Richie didn't laugh, but Eddie did. God, did he ever fucking laugh. Possibly harder than he had ever laughed at anything in his life. Certainly harder than he had ever laughed at Richie's 'your mom' jokes when he was a kid. No, now it was funny. Now he _could_ find it funny! Richie was fucking his mother! What god damned fucking comedic genius! That shit practically writes itself it's so goddamn funny. Just as funny as a grown man whose mother just died laughing his ass off in the middle of a fucking airport while his girlfriend cries and his ex-boyfriend is on the other side of the phone absolutely fucking speechless.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" Richie asked him, at the same time Myra came up to him, yanking him by the elbow. He dropped his phone and it fell and shut itself - effectively ending the call. Eddie only kept laughing. He ignored the looks of the strangers, and the anger that came from Myra hissing angrily in his ear. He could barely hear her words, but guessed it was something along the lines of _What the hell is so funny?_

Everything aside from Richie's voice echoing in his ears was nothing but a dull buzz. Maybe that's what love was. The moment where everything else fell away to white noise and the only thing that mattered was _him._

He pulled himself out of Myra's grip and his laughter slowly began to simmer. There was still people staring at him strangely, and he would've done the same if he were on the other side. This caused a brief rise in his laughter, as he considered how damned funny this whole situation was. He picked up his phone, taking his time to shoot off a text to Richie. 

_Key is on top of the door frame. Ur tall u can get it easy. I'm ok. I'll call u tonight. Thx._

Eddie knew it was hardly anything, and that he'd end up having a long ass talk with Richie about what the hell was going on with him once he was able to be alone, but Eddie was looking forward to that. Richie was about the only person he wanted to talk to. 

By the time Eddie sat down next to Myra again, his laughter had completely faded out. She was still glaring at him with glassy eyes, but the prying eyes of strangers had averted themselves. Eddie slumped into his seat. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he figured it was Richie texting him back. He didn't check it until around ten o'clock when their plane touched down in Portland.

_Anything u need eds. just call._

Yes, Eddie decided that he would need _something_ \- even if it was just the simple pleasure of hearing Richie's voice.

* * *

**April 29th, 2007 - Sonia Kaspbrak's Home - Derry, Maine**

"Eddie?"

For a moment, Eddie mistook the shrill voice to be that of his mother. Myra had been silent during the whole ride from the airport to his childhood home in the rented car. Eddie didn't mind. He was used to not talking to his customers while he drove them. Eddie realized it was Myra's first time coming to Derry. Sonia had always come out to visit them.

It was his first time stepping into that god awful house in nearly five years. He couldn't blame himself for thinking that the tearful voice of his aunt Victoria was his mother.

Victoria rounded the corner, coming over to catch Eddie into a crushing hug. She wasn't as big as his mother, not even as big as Myra, but she wasn't a thin woman either. Perhaps it ran in the family... Perhaps Eddie's dad was as skinny as he was? That was another thing Eddie didn't know. He could hardly recall hearing about his father throughout his childhood, nor could he recall seeing any photos. Wasn't that sad? A boy who didn't even know what his father looked like. His heart ached, and he hugged his aunt back. 

"Oh, Eddie." She cried onto his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I'm so... You didn't even get to say goodbye." Victoria muttered. "She wanted to. I know she did. She always talked about how much she loved you and how proud of you she was." _No she wasn't._ The nasty voice in the back of Eddie's mind piped up. _She didn't give a shit about you, and you know it. Why would she? Her fuck up of a queer son couldn't even get married right. Couldn't even keep his head on his shoulders and suck it up and get married like she wanted him to. Couldn't stay at home like she wanted him to. Couldn't give a shit about her death like any halfway decent son would've. You never stayed by her side, Eddie-bear. You spent half of your life rebelling against her and the other half bending over backwards to make her happy and neither of them made you happy. You never made her happy. You never made yourself happy. And now she's dead! She's dead and all you did doesn't matter anymore! How does that feel, Eddie-bear? You fucked up. You ruined her life. You ruined your own life. And it killed her! You killed your mother!_

"I know." Eddie swallowed thickly. He didn't know if he was talking to Victoria or the voice in his head. He didn't know which was better to talk to. "I know." He said again, willing the tears to fall from his eyes. It worked. A small amount of tears rolling down his cheeks, and Myra sniffled at his side. Right. She was still there. "Victoria." Eddie stepped back a little. "I... I wish it was under better circumstances, but this is Myra Collins. She's my girlfriend." He placed his hand on her back. 

It was tense - meeting over the pretense of someone’s death. Eddie didn't like them having to do it like this either. He didn't like Myra having to meet Victoria at all.

"Nice to meet you." Myra said quietly, and the air was tense. No one knew what to say, and Eddie couldn't blame them either. He didn't know what to say either. He cleared his throat.

"I'll... Bring our stuff upstairs, Marty... Maybe you two could talk?" He knew his voice sounded broken and awkward. Victoria nodded, taking Myra gently by the arm to lead her off towards the living room. Eddie took up both suitcases and started up the stairs. The sound of each careful footstep was intimately familiar. Even without his mother in the house, Eddie reverted back to being a teenager. He felt on edge as he always did in that house.

It only got worse when he pushed open the door to his bedroom, and it was just how he remembered it being. His bed was made, some trinkets and photos were still strung about the room. His bookshelf was still disorganized, and Eddie remembered he had been meaning to fix it before he left for the last time. He noticed there wasn’t a speck of dust in his room, meaning his mother had kept it clean until the day she died. Perhaps she was always hoping he’d come back. 

He left their suitcases by the door, and moved to sink down on his bed. It still squeaked like he remembered. The noise grated his ears. He didn’t even know where he and Myra were going to sleep. The twin sized bed had barely fit Eddie and Richie in it as teens… He doubted he and Myra would be able to fit comfortably. He doubted _Myra_ would be able to fit comfortably. 

His palms felt sweaty, and he rubbed them on his knees. So badly he wanted to just lay back, fall asleep and never wake up. He closed his eyes. 

“Eddie?” Myra was standing in the doorway. He opened his eyes and peered at her. She wouldn’t meet his eye. “Do you love me?” 

The silence that followed the question was deafening. So badly so that Eddie didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to have to tell her, after all this time, that he didn’t love her. That she was wasting her time with him. That none of it mattered. That she wasn’t going to marry him. That this had all been for nothing. 

“No.” He told her. He said it, and he could watch her heart fall apart at the seams. “No… I don’t think I ever had.” Through no fault of her own, of course, she couldn’t help being a woman and therefore, not an option at all for Eddie. 

“Okay.” Myra said simply. While Eddie could see it in her face, she did an excellent job of not sounding completely heartbroken. “Can you pretend while we’re here? You can move out as soon as we’re back in New York.” Implying she was keeping his apartment. Eddie didn’t find it in him to care. “Just pretend for now. Don’t embarrass me like this.” 

“Okay.” Yeah, he could do that. Pretending. That was manageable. He could pretend to love Myra like he pretended to care about his mother's death. Poorly and unconvincingly, but who’s going to care when his mother just passed away? He has full right to have his emotions be out of line, right? He looked down at his knees, and heard Myra walking away. 

With her, his guilt left. 

It was over. He had done it, and the world hadn’t imploded. Myra didn’t break (not on the outside. Eddie didn’t think he could deal with having to see that.) Really, it was about as easy as it could be. And the feeling of freedom flowed through Eddie - thick and hot. He was damned near _giddy_ again. 

He did the first thing he could think of - he called Richie. 

He knew Richie would probably be at work, but that didn’t matter to Eddie right now. What mattered was hearing his voice again. The phone rang three times before Richie answered, his voice kept low. 

“Eddie? Hey, you okay? What happened back there?” 

“I broke up with Myra.” 

There was a pause on the other end. “Well, congratulations, Eds. I’m proud of you but… What’s going on. You’re really starting to scare me.” 

“I’m starting to scare me too.” Eddie looked around. His eyes falling on a framed picture at this side table. “There’s a picture of us here.” He noted. “Right on my nightstand. You’ve got your arm around me, and our cheeks are pressed together and we’re so happy. I can see it. We’re seventeen years old and probably happier than I’ve ever been since then. It’s so strange, Richie. It’s so strange to see us so happy… I want that again.” 

“I want that too, Eddie.”

“Richie, I-” Eddie stopped. Those three words should’ve been so easy to get out. They should’ve tumbled off his lips without a second thought like they were supposed to. But a fear bubbled up inside of him. He was in his mother's house. She was sitting on the other side of the wall with a glass to the wall trying desperately to hear whatever he was saying. Eddie didn't like that thought one bit. He didn't like that he had just broken things off with Myra like it was nothing. That wasn't fair to her! None of this was fair to anyone! "I..." He couldn't find his words. His hand ran through his hair, catching on a small knot near the back of his head. Eddie pushed through it.

"I know, Eds... I know. Me too."

Eddie almost laughed. "You can't Han Solo me. I didn't even say it."

Richie did laugh at that. Not a rolling laugh like Eddie had let out earlier, but the sound still filled his chest with warmth. He didn't think he could ever get tired with a sound as wonderful as Richie's laughter. "I can Han Solo you whenever I want!"

"Yeah, I guess you are a scruffy looking nerf herder." 

"Who are you calling scruffy?"

They both laughed then. A soft laughter that made Eddie feel like he was soaring. This was exactly what he had needed. Richie had _always_ been what he needed, and god, was he ever thankful that he had him back. The alternative made him feel sick. But for now, he was able to laugh along with him. For now, he was able to pretend that everything was okay.

Eddie knew the feeling would fade soon. The second he hung up the phone, he'd have to pretend to love Myra, he'd be in his mother’s home and his bravery would waver. Eddie even considered the possibility that Victoria might try to convince him to stay in Derry. Oh God. IT was in Derry. He hadn't even... He hadn't even thought about IT.

"Richie?" The shake in his voice was concerning.

"Yeah?"

"I'm in Derry." The revelation seemed to hit Richie too, as he took in a sharp breath of air.

"You're going to be okay. Nothing's going to hurt you right now... Nothing... You're okay right now. I swear it. I wouldn't lie to you, right, Eddie? If something happens, you know Mike is there too, right? You can go find him. Or you can call me. And we'll make sure you're okay." But Eddie doesn't like that either. He knew Richie's words came from a place of wanting to comfort him, but it really does the opposite. It makes him think that something _could_ happen. It makes him think that he needs to be on edge and preparing to have to combat IT, potentially by himself. He feels his neck, where the bite marks have since faded into nothing, and he wonders what it would be like if IT really tore him apart.

"I should go." Eddie told him quietly. "I'll call you tonight, okay? Myra and my aunt are waiting... I've been away a while..." He figures neither of them would've said anything if he stayed up longer, but it didn't matter. He needed to distract himself. And while Richie was a lot nicer to talk to than Myra and Victoria, he didn't think he'd be able to get IT out of his head if he kept talking to him.

"Okay."

"I'll... I'll see Mike while I'm here." Eddie promises, mostly to himself. Maybe it would provide Mike some sort of comfort to know that he wasn't the only one dealing with these memories. He wasn't the only one being haunted. Or maybe it would make him feel like he failed.

"That's a good idea. Say hi for me, okay?" Richie requested. "I'll talk to you later, Eddie." Eddie wished he had said 'Eds' instead.

"I'll talk to you soon." He hung up after that. Another visual sweep over his room, and Eddie parted. He left, and headed back downstairs to rejoin Myra and Victoria.

* * *

**May 2nd, 2007 - Tyler Funeral Home - Derry, Maine**

He still hadn't seen Mike. He was too scared. He was scared that seeing him would make all of this too real. That seeing him still here and _waiting_ would cement the fact that he would one day have to return to Derry and fight IT once and for all.

He did, however, keep his promise about calling Richie. He called him every single night. Sometimes, from standing in the bathroom and other times sitting in his room. It would depend on where Myra was at the moment. He had let Myra take his bed. He set up the cot next to it to keep up the act, and he thought it was better this way too. Sleeping in his old bed would be too familiar. At least now he wasn't reliving his childhood completely.

What was definitely _not_ a memory from this childhood was standing next to a closed casket at the funeral home as people who Eddie didn't really remember came up to him, offering their condolences. _"I'm so sorry... It's terrible, what happened."_ Ms Corcoran told Eddie, squeezing his hands tightly. Eddie remembered what happened to her sons, and desperately, he wanted to tell her that he was sorry for all of her loss - that she shouldn't have to feel bad for what happened to him... But he couldn't force it out. Instead, he just nodded along and thanked her for being there.

Eddie wasn't even sure that he knew her growing up. He remembered Eddie and Dorsey Corcoran, sure, but he wasn't sure if he remembered their parents at all. His mother wasn't friends with them, was she? Or maybe she was later on? There was likely so much Eddie didn't know about his mother's life after he left Derry.

Which was why he was worried that perhaps Mike Hanlon would show up to pay his respects to Sonia Kaspbrak. But as the clock ticked away and the hours crawled on, the service was about to start and there was no sign of Mike. No sign of any Hanlon for that matter. Eddie couldn't say he was too surprised. His mother had never been particularly friendly with his family. He knew why.

Soon enough, guests were filing into their seats. The funeral home was more filled out than Eddie would've guessed, but perhaps it was because Sonia was another one just like the rest of them in Derry. Even if she distrusted the sanitation of most of them, she was another mind in their hive. She was one of them.

A priest spoke, and Eddie wouldn't lie - he wasn't listening. The only thing that kept his mind from wandering too far as Myra's tight grip on his hand as they listened. Her cheeks were tracked with tears, while Eddies were mostly bare - but his eyes were glassy. Surely, that would be enough? God, he hoped it was. He didn't think there was a way to avoid it, at this point, but he didn't want to become the talk of the town with Derry.

He didn't want Mike Hanlon to know he was here and didn't see him. Even though he suspected Mike would give him the benefit of the doubt, assume that Eddie didn't remember him at all, and that it wasn't his fault, he still didn't like the idea of Mike's face falling when he found out.

He didn't realize he had been invited up to speak until Myra nudged him. His mind having been completely elsewhere. With a shaking breath, he stood up, and took the podium.

He realized he absolutely hated the look of all of those eyes facing him. He felt stiff and awkward, and even as he pulled a small stack of cue cards from his suit jacket pocket, something written to help him keep his ramblings somewhat on track, he felt nervous. The words he had written were all lies, because this funeral was not for him. It wasn't for his mother either, not really. Sure, she was the one in the casket behind him, but she wasn't really there to hear it. He could, in theory, say whatever the hell he wanted and it wouldn't matter a lick to him! But no, for him, this funeral was for Myra. This was their last hurrah. This was their last time together. This was her goodbye to a woman that she had truly loved and cared about. Even if she had been completely awful and a ghost haunting over Eddie's life, Myra had cared about her. And Eddie, despite not wanting to, cared about Myra. She deserved to at least have this be right for her. 

So, he did just that. He cleared his throat. “A-As… As I’m sure you all know, Sonia Kaspbrak was a fantastic woman.” Maybe, in a way, lying did him a favour. He hated having to say those words, he hated that no one in this room knew the abuse he had suffered under his mother, and god was it frustrating. Tears burned in his eyes. “She was a loving mother, wife, sister, and friend. My father died when I was three, and because of that, I have no memory of him. As far as I’m aware, my mom raised me all on her own, and I believe she did a damned good job at that. I’m happy, I’m independent, and I’m in love.” The words earned smiles from most of the audience, except from Myra. Eddie supposed that was to be expected. “... Throughout my childhood, I was sick.” _You still are, Eddie-bear._ “I got sick a lot. And I can’t even begin to imagine the toll it took on her, trying to keep her son healthy after losing a husband to cancer. But she pushed through it. She loved me so much, and I can still feel that love today.” _Oh yes, she loved you Eddie. That was love. Love was keeping you locked up and away from your friends. Love was repressing everything that made you happy. Love was making you miserable for years. That’s love. That’s what you deserve._ He felt himself really starting to cry then. “Every… Everything she did she did for me. My mother did not have a selfish bone in her body. And I never thanked her for all that she did for me. I never… I never even got to say goodbye.” He turned to face the coffin, thick tears rolling down his cheeks now. “Goodbye, momma… T-Thank you. I love you.” He took his leave from the podium, returning to his seat. He immediately clasped at Myra’s hand, who barely held onto him in return. But that was okay. Eddie didn’t need her to hold back. She was the only one he had right now, and he needed to calm himself down. 

After him, Victoria took to the podium to speak, and then, they processed out to the cemetery to watch the casket be lowered into the earth. Eddie took the first handful of dirt and tossed it in. When Myra did the same, Eddie immediately started to head back inside. He absolutely did not want to be in that building anymore. He did not want to think about Sonia Kaspbrak anymore.

* * *

**May 8th, 2007 - Eddie Kaspbrak’s House - Derry, Maine**

With his mother's passing, the house had fallen into Eddie’s possession. He decided that he was going to sell it, and most of his mother’s things too, as there was no way he was going to stay in Derry. It was a long and grueling process to sort out her affairs, clean out the house, and get everything prepared for it to be sold, but Eddie was almost thankful for all the energy it was taking. He didn’t have the time to stop and think about the clown. 

The last place he wanted to clean out was Sonia’s bedroom. It was place that Eddie had rarely even seen growing up, and now, he was scared to face it. The door had always been shut and he had never even tried the handle. There had never been any reason for him to creep into her bedroom until now. 

He pushed the door open and stepped in on tip-toes. The room was… Completely normal. It had a bed, a dresser, a vanity, and… Pretty much whatever Eddie had expected. The walls were mostly bare, and aside from the rumpling of the sheets on the bed, there was really no outward sign that anyone lived in the room at all. 

That was really the part that made him feel sick. 

He went out into the hall to collect some empty boxes. Myra asked him if he needed help, and Eddie immediately declined. This was something he had decided that he needed to do on his own. 

Clothes - clothes would be the easiest, right? Eddie went over to her dresser and opened up the first drawer. It was filled with shirts. Right, that was easy. One by one he pulled them out, refolded them, and placed them into the box. All of the clothing would be donated, and Eddie would never see it again. Once the drawer was clear - he went onto the next one. Evidently, her underwear drawer. With socks and bras included. This one was a little harder to get through, but Eddie braced himself and placed everything neatly into the box as well. All except for one thing. 

It would seem that Sonia kept more than just underclothes in the drawer. Tucked in at the back, Eddie found a small photo album. It was made of black leather and shining in golden letters on the cover was a simple word - _family._

At first, he dropped the book like it had burned him. There was likely so much tucked into those pages that he wouldn’t want to see… But also, so much that he was _desperate_ to see. Something that he absolutely needed to know and understand. Eddie didn’t know his father, and he was positive that he barely knew who his mother was beneath her lies and manipulation. Surely - that couldn’t be all she was, right? 

That only made Eddie feel worse. 

Carefully, he opened the photo album and the first photo he saw made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t know why the image invoked such a negative gut reaction, but he didn’t like it. On the page, was a black and white photograph from what must’ve been his parents wedding. Sonia and Frank Kaspbrak, arm-in-arm, and smiling brightly towards the photographer. Sonia was smaller than Eddie had ever known her to be, and his dad… He looked a lot like him. His hair was lighter, and his jaw more defined, but Eddie could really see himself in the man. He realized it was the first time he was even seeing him. 

Quickly, he turned the page, and the next photo… God, it was so much worse. 

It was his father, grinning happily like he was before, only this time there was a bundle in his arms. Eddie couldn’t see what it was, but he knew well enough. The little bundle was him - and judging by the look of the room around them, it was in the hospital. Maybe it was the first time his dad had held him. It was the only time Eddie currently knew about, although logically he was sure there was many more. From the time he was born till the time he was three, he must’ve been held by his dad many times. He wished he could remember it. 

It was strange to miss someone you couldn’t remember at all. 

He decided he couldn’t handle the emotional turmoil of continuing through the book. He shut it and set it aside while he resumed emptying out Sonia’s things. The rest of her room passing by in a blur.

* * *

**May 10th, 2007 - Richie’s Records - New York City, New York**

Eddie had agreed to let Myra stay in his apartment. Neither of them had really any other place to go, but Richie had extended the offer for Eddie to stay with him - and it had really been just what Eddie had needed. He packed up a suitcase (again) with the addition of the photo album, and took a blow-up mattress with him. He had only been back in New York a day, and the weight of the city felt so damned heavy on his shoulders, but as he walked into the record store… He felt better again. 

Richie was at his side in a second, ushering him up to the back in the apartment. “Make yourself at home, Eds. Get comfy. Get some rest… We have a lot of talking to do later, I take it?” Eddie could only nod. 

“Thank you again, Richie. I really can’t-” 

“You’re right. You can’t, so don’t. I don’t need your thanks, Eds. I want to help you.” 

“But-” 

“You heard me. I’m glad to have you here.” 

Eddie met his stare, almost as though he were challenging him. But, he lost. He let his shoulders drop and he nodded. “You get back to work, I’ll be fine up here… I’ll come down if I need anything.” Eddie told him. Richie was about to leave when Eddie stopped him.

"Ah, wait... Where do you keep your linens?" Eddie asked.

Richie grinned, perhaps at just having a few moments longer with Eddie. He lead him towards the closet and opened it up. There wasn't much in there. An extra set of sheets for his bed, a few blankets, some extra pillows, and then towels for the bathroom. But it would be enough for Eddie.

"Take whatever you need, Eds." Richie ruffled his hair affectionately. Eddie indulged in the touch.

"Have fun at work." He told him. Richie chuckled.

"Oh, I always do!"

Eddie didn’t make himself at home exactly. He pushed the couch back and moved the coffee table in order to blow up his mattress and dress it. The sheets Richie had didn't fit the mattress, so Eddie just laid down a blanket and hoped it wouldn't move around too much in the night. He set himself up with the pillows and made it neatly. It was rather cozy. But Eddie sat on the couch for the rest of the evening, waiting for Richie to close up the shop. At around 8 o'clock, there was still no sign of Richie, which wasn't unexpected but Eddie felt like he should be doing a bit more. He elected to take his time to make dinner for him.

There wasn't too much to work with in the kitchen, but he settled on making a chicken stir-fry. All of the ingredients were there, and Richie had a rice maker which made the whole process a lot easier for Eddie. By nine, he had finished cooking and left the chicken and vegetable mix on a low heat on the stove to keep it warm.

It was nine-thirty when Richie finally showed up again, dramatically sniffing the air as he came into the apartment.

"Well, jeez, you didn't have to cook a five-star meal for me." He joked lightly, stepping over and slinging his arm around Eddie's shoulder. He was standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water when Richie came in.

"Making sure you eat something is about the least I could do. Besides, I was hungry too." Eddie pointed out. "Not everything I do is for you, Richie."

"Well, ouch! Everything I've done has been for you, Eds!" He argued. There was a beat of silence, as Eddie was trying to decipher whether or not Richie was serious. Richie didn't give any real indication.

He stepped away from Eddie and lifted the lid on the pan of stir-fry, with his bare hands, he picked up a piece of the chopped chicken breast and popped it in his mouth. "Yowza, Eds. You sure know how to cook!" 

"And you sure know how to forget people's names." Eddie didn't think he was going to ever let that one go - just as he was sure that Richie was never going to stop calling him Eds. At least it was better than- 

"Eddie Spaghetti you need to give yourself some credit!" Eddie scowled as Richie continued on. "You'd make a mighty fine chef, I tell ya!"

Eddie rolled his eyes, refusing to believe it. He wasn't a bad cook, sure, he knew how to make a few simple dishes, but he wouldn't call himself a 'mighty fine' cook - no matter what Richie had to say about it. Eddie sorted out their plates, with an equal amount of rice and chicken and vegetable mix on each of them before bringing it to the table.

It was a strange vibe between the two of them as they ate. Two friends who knew they should be more than that, but the timing was... Awful. Eddie still had to sort out his separation from Myra, who was still living in his apartment and certainly not with enough money to move out on her own. He knew he was in the legal right to the place, they weren't married, and he could easily kick her out, but Eddie didn't have the heart to do something like that. It was a lot to think about, and a lot that Richie kept distracting him from. Exaggerated stories of the work day both at the record shop and at his new gig writing for Saturday Night Live had Eddie laughing more than he was eating.

But soon, the meal came to an end, and with that, more serious conversation rolled in. They stay sitting at the table while Richie was the first one to budge on the subject.

"What are you going to do, Eddie?"

The fact that he called him Eddie was what really set the tone for him. Eddie took in a breath, thinking. "She's going to have to get a job." He said, first and foremost. "A real one, not what she's doing now..."

"What is she doing now?"

Eddie smiled sadly. "She sells Avon." Richie almost laughed at that, but Eddie shrugged. "I might co-sign a lease for her? So she can get out of my apartment...?" It was about all Eddie could think of. "I don't know. I don't want to screw her over, but I also... I can't keep living with her, of course." Richie nodded.

"If that's what you wanna do, Eddie, I stand by you." Richie assured him. And Eddie appreciated it. 

Then, there was the unspoken conversation. The _what about us_ that Eddie was sure Richie was just as desperate to get out as he was. But before Eddie could work up the guts to say it, Richie was standing up and collecting their plates, going to get started on the dishes. Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't stop him.

"I... Can I take a shower?" He asked.

"Of course!" Richie told him immediately, flipping the switch as though the previous conversation hadn't happened at all. It gave Eddie an emotional whiplash. "You know where the towels are. Help yourself." 

Eddie collected his shower stuff from his suitcase, and grabbed a towel from the closet before making his way into the bathroom. He hadn't expected it to be messy, exactly, but he wasn't expecting to find it perfectly clean either, which had Eddie pleasantly surprised. He stripped down and turned on the water, keeping it cool. _Don't scald yourself in the shower, Eddie-bear. Never turn the dial past the middle. It'll be too hot. You'll burn yourself and you wouldn't want to get hurt, would you?_ Eddie hadn't thought about his mother’s shower advisory in years, and he didn't know why it was hitting him now. But he followed through with it. He kept the water cool and scrubbed himself clean, as though he were trying to rid himself of Myra and Sonia entirely. 

He left the shower still feeling dirty.

* * *

**May 12th, 2007 - A Rolls Royce - New York City, New York**

Eddie drove about a block away from the hotel where he had dropped Bill off before stopping. He couldn't believe that had just happened. Bill had just sat in the backseat of his car and not a lick of recognition passed over him. Not when he saw Eddie. Not when he heard his name. 

Eddie couldn't wrap his head around it. How had he and Richie experienced it so instantly, but Bill just couldn't seem to get it? Was he repressing it that much more? Was he just better at hiding it? Did he remember and think Eddie didn't so he didn't say anything? What the hell was going on?

Then again, Eddie supposed the whole thing with IT had never really made much sense. Was it too outlandish to believe that this wouldn't make perfect sense either? He didn't know what to think. So, he did the only thing he could think of... Eddie called Richie.

It was on the fourth ring that he picked up. "Eddie? Is everything alright. I'm in a meeting right now, so I can't really talk."

Ah, shit. Eddie forgot about that. He had been at a writers meeting. On one hand, this could wait. But on the other... This was going to really bug him, Eddie was sure of it. He needed to tell him what happened, even if they didn't really have the time to talk. "I saw Bill today... I picked him up." 

There was a pause on the other end. "And?' 

"And nothing... He... He didn't remember anything." Eddie told him, giving a small frown. "I don't know why. I don't get how he didn't remember but... It was him, Richie. It was really him." 

"I know. I know, I believe you." Richie assured. "Are you going to be okay? We can talk about this later I just... I really can't right now, Eds." 

Eddie understood that much. "Yeah, yeah, Richie. We can talk later. Good luck at work today." 

"Thanks. I'll see you tonight. And drive safe." 

"I always do, Rich." 

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags have been added, relevant to later chapters. Mostly just emphasizing that this, for the most part, is following the canon of the book - in case you wanted to know what to expect down the line. 
> 
> But now! Eddie and Richie are finally getting things together and things will be chugging along for them verrrry shortly! I'd love to hear what you all think so don't forget to leave a comment ;)


	10. step eight: make a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie reconnect with an old friend.

**Never, yet Always - Nowhere - The Other**

Maturin hadn’t left his shell for many years. Not since the boy, William Denbrough, had come to pass through. He was a smart one, Maturin recalled, a brave one too. Witty. Powerful. Maturin had liked him, and how he had _wished_ he could’ve been of service to him. But alas - the power did not lie with him. Gan was the one who had given him the strength, but Maturin was the one trying to keep him from returning. It was the best help he could offer.

_He will come back._ IT spoke from the recesses - the words echoing throughout the nothingness. Maturin kept his eyes shut. He was perhaps the most ancient of Gan’s servants, and the most exhausted from millenia of keeping IT at bay. The people of Derry, Maine might think he had failed - but even Maturin shuddered to think of what might be had IT been able to extend his full potential of chaos. 

_He will not. None of them will._ It wasn’t a statement in which Maturin had much confidence. It was hope. It was the only one he had for those children. Surely, those mortals would not be able to defeat IT. He felt Gan chuckle. 

_Three of them remember. The three of them will bring back the others._ Three? How had it become three? Yes, Michael Hanlon remembered. Maturin knew that well enough. Michael Hanlon had been one of two to see the origins of IT and Maturin himself. Michael Hanlon had been the one trying to push his way into the Other. Michael Hanlon was a smart one. 

_William will not. If he does not come, the rest of them will not go._ Maturin argued back. IT laughed. A deep bubbling laugh that Maturin felt rumbling through him. Gan attempted to soothe him, but the attempts did nothing. 

_I have seen into him, old friend. He will return._

Old friend. Maturin felt a bile rise up in his throat.

* * *

**May 12th, 2007 - Richie Tozier’s Apartment - New York City, New York**

On his way home Eddie had picked up a pizza. He wasn't much in the mood for cooking, and he imagined that Richie wouldn't be either. Really, Eddie wasn't even sure if he'd be able to stomach much food after the whole run in with Bill earlier that day. It didn't sit quite right with him - something evidently must've happened with him. Why else wouldn't he have remembered like he and Richie had? Or maybe he did and didn't think that Eddie remembered? 

Yes, Eddie supposed that he hadn't considered that until just then. He hadn't made any indication at knowing Bill, so why would Bill have made any indication to knowing him? Maybe he didn't want to have Eddie remember. If Bill remembered, surely he'd also remember that Eddie didn't handle his fear very well. Eddie's heart swelled a little at that thought. The imaginary scenario where Bill Denbrough was still going out of his way to try and protect him. That felt a lot like Bill to him.

Or maybe he really didn't remember? Did Eddie even want him to remember? Things had been difficult enough for him and Richie when the two of them had had their memories forcibly shoved into their minds... It wouldn't be right to put those memories back into his head. He had nearly a whole decade of peace ahead of him - perhaps his whole life if they were really lucky and IT really was dead. Eddie didn't want to take that away from him. An internet search from his phone told him Bill was happily married and successful. He didn't want to take him away from that.

He scrolled through photos of Bill, and god, he didn't look anything like the kid in Eddie's memories anymore. He had the same air about him, Eddie noted. The same confidence. The same smile. The same strange quality that made Eddie sure that he would follow him straight through the gates of Hell if Bill asked, and not even question it. _"Sure, Big Bill!"_ Eddie could imagine his younger self saying. _"When are we going? Do you want me to pack some snacks?"_ Eddie's own thoughts made him laugh.

His brief moment of laughter was cut off by a phone call coming in, and his stomach dropped. Myra calling still had the uncanny ability to sicken him.

He debated not answering. He seriously considered ignoring the call and telling her that he had been driving, whenever she called again and he inevitably answered. Richie would be home soon, wouldn't he? And then they'd need to talk and he didn't have time to try and talk Myra into getting a proper job. He didn't have time to deal with her sniffling and her fears about not having anyone to love her ever again. He didn't have the time to avoid telling her he was very gay, and that him not loving her had nothing to do with her personally.

Eddie sighed to himself, and picked up the call on the final ring.

"Hello." Eddie greeted. Before Myra spoke, she sniffled. It was a sound that Eddie immediately decided he hated. 

 

"Eddiiiieeeee." She whined in a shrill tone that echoed the voice of his dead mother. At his side, his free hand shook slightly. "I don't know what I'm going to dooooo." 

Exhaustion felt heavy on his brow. His face contorted in a look of frustration. How he desired to have Richie by his side to hold his hand and make sure he didn't do something stupid like agree to the inevitable begging for him to come home.

"You're going to get a job, and then you're going to find an apartment or a house or something. I don't know, Myra. But you can't just... Keep living in my house." Eddie explained, nearly desperately. "You're a good secretary, Myra." It was actually how Eddie had met Myra - she had been a receptionist with the limo company. And Eddie was truthful in his words, Myra had been good at it. She was naturally organized, she was good at getting what she wanted, and she kept a rigorous schedule. It was a work that was practically made for her. "You have a good resume, and you have good references. And you're in New York! You have a ton of businesses that could use someone like you!" 

"How can I get someone to hire me if I can't get a man to love me? Please just come home, Eddie.... Please we can make it work. Please." There it was. Guilt fought its way into Eddie's stomach without his permission. Why wouldn't Myra just give him a damned break and make this easy for him? Why couldn't she just let things go and let this be easy? 

_When has anything ever been easy for you, Eddie?_

The vicious little voice in the back of his mind was right, and Eddie didn't like that one bit. 

"Myra, me not loving you has absolutely nothing to do with your work ethic. It doesn't even have anything to do with _you._ " He affirmed. "You're a beautiful young woman, Myra. You will find someone who can give you so much more than I ever could. Okay? Just... Do you want me to take you out tomorrow? I can drive you and bring you to a few places?" He suggested. He decided that was about the best thing that he could do to help Myra that didn't involve moving back in with her.

He expected a fight on the matter, but Myra didn't seem to want to put one up. She sniffled again, and Eddie though she might burst into a fresh bout of tears, but instead, she made a sound of agreement. "Can we go out to breakfast?" 

He knew that that meant - more time for her to try and convince him to move back in with her, and Eddie really didn't want to open up that opportunity for her. He shook his head, despite her not being able to see. "No, Myra. We're not going out to breakfast. I'm going to pick you up at twelve on the dot. And then we're going to go. You can make your own breakfast, Myra." 

He could almost see her opening her mouth to try and argue with him, but it would seem that she had given up on her efforts. "Okay." Myra said instead. 

"Okay." Eddie breathed out. Suddenly, feeling a lot more exhausted than he did before. He glanced over at his air mattress, and he wanted nothing more than to just climb over and curl up in his sheets, and forget all about the pizza and Bill Denbrough. Eddie just wanted to sleep.

At that moment, Richie opened the door, and those hopes were sucked right out of him. Richie was laughing, also holding a phone to his cheek. "I'll see you soon then! Congrats again, Ron! I can't wait!" He seemed to be giddy, and Eddie couldn't help how much better that made him feel, a small smile spreading across his face. 

"I'll call you tomorrow, Myra." He didn't give her the chance to stay goodbye before he hung up.

Richie gave Eddie a little wave. "I'll call you soon, okay?" He spoke to the person on the other end - Ron? - Eddie didn't know who Ron was, but clearly, whatever he was saying was making Richie pretty damned excited. Was it a new job? "Okay, see you soon. Love you, Ron." 

Eddie's heart sunk.

Richie hung up the call and beamed towards Eddie. "That was my sister." Ron? Ronnie? _Veronica!_ It hit Eddie so suddenly, the whiplash of his moods in the last twenty minutes was starting to actually hurt his neck. But at least it was his sister, and he hadn't lost Richie before he even had him again. "And she got engaged!" 

And suddenly, all of the pieces fitted together, and Eddie was really starting to feel happy about this all. "That's great, Richie!" And Eddie was proud to feel completely genuine in the affirmation. 

“It is! It's even better because it's to a great friend of mine!” Richie continued to barrel on. “The lovely supermodel, Sophie Hammond." Richie explained. "I introduced them at a party once, back when I was with Isabelle... And they hit it off immediately. I was wondering when I was going to get that call about a ring." His happiness for his sister was nearly contagious, and the grin on Richie's face Eddie couldn't help but mirror.

Then, two things struck him at once. Ronnie was gay? And “Can she even do that? Isn’t it...not legal?” Eddie asked curiously. 

“It is legal in the great state of Massachusetts.” Richie explained. “As of 2004, if I can recall correctly. Jeez, Eds. What sort of gay man are you?” He teased. Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie barrelled on. "And you got pizza? Well, jeez, Eds. If it isn't my lucky day." He stepped towards him and ruffled his hair.

It was a touch Eddie was sure he must've once hated, but now, he almost immediately wished for Richie to do it again. 

Richie stepped past him instead, popping open the box and lifting out a slice. "And shit, you remembered what I like?" Eddie hadn't even though about that - not consciously, at least. He ordered the toppings that first came to mind. Pepperoni, jalapenos, and black olives. It wasn't until Richie mentioned it that Eddie remembered it had been his favourite when they were kids. 

"Yeah." Eddie nodded. "Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?" There was a small look shared between them. A shy smile that was evident on both of their faces. Eddie thought it was just about his favourite look he had seen on Richie's face. He reached to take a slice too. 

"So, would I be able to convince you to come out to California with me for the engagement party? Maybe you could even come to the wedding too..." The latter sentence was said without much commitment - but the first question was rather serious, and Eddie was evidently very surprised. 

He blinked, considering the offer with clear confusion. "Are... Are you serious, Rich?" 

"Of course I'm serious. It's next weekend, and there's no way that Myra's gonna be out of your place by then. And it's not that I don't trust you in my apartment, but I'd feel bad for leaving a guest alone in my place. Plus, Ronnie said I could bring a plus one, I thought it just made sense to invite you. If you don't want to come, Eds, you don't have to... But I thought it might be fun. Shit, with everything going on, I think both of us could use a little vacation, wouldn't you agree?" 

Yeah, he would have to agree. But there was also something intimate and romantic about going to his sister's engagement party across the country with him that made Eddie's cheeks heat up. He was _almost_ scared of the idea of putting himself in that position with Richie again. But he was also incredibly interested in the idea. He imagined kissing him on a warm California beach at sunset, and then pushed the thought away at the pure ridiculousness of it all.

Richie seemed to take Eddie's extended silence as a no. "It's okay, Eds. You don't have to come if you don't want to. You're more than welcome to stay here, it's really not a big deal-" 

"No, I wanna go." Eddie interrupted Richie once he got his head about him again, and the cheerful grin immediately broke out upon Richie's face again and Eddie felt his heart bursting. He loved seeing that look on his face. 

"Great!" Richie took another few bites of his pizza, speaking around a full mouth. "I'll call Ronnie tomorrow, and book us a hotel... I don't think you wanna stay with my parents, right? I mean, we could probably fit if you wanted to save the money but I think Ron and Soph are gonna be staying there and it'd be a little crowded. I don't know if there would be enough room for us to not have to share a bed..."

"The hotel is fine." Eddie assured him. "I have enough room in my savings account to split it with you." 

Richie nodded in agreement. "Then it's settled. Next week, Rich and Eds’ Big Adventure to California!" He triumphantly finished his slice of pizza, taking out another right after. "Now that that's out of the way, tell me about your meeting with Big Bill, huh?"

Eddie nodded, thinking it over again. The more he thought about the encounter, the stranger it seemed to be. Eddie closed his eyes in thought. "It was weird. You know, when _we_ met...even if we didn't know it right away, we could tell that we knew each other?" Eddie asked. Richie nodded. "It wasn't like that with Bill. Even me saying his name didn't seem to jog his memory one bit. I don't know why... Like, I almost want to say it's some _other_ Bill Denbrough who by coincidence is about our age and also came out of Derry but... We both know how crazy that would be."

"I dunno, Eds. Crazier things have happened." 

Crazier things indeed. Eddie couldn't deny that logic. But, he shook his head. "Aside from the fact that he didn't know it was me, I was absolutely sure that it was Big Bill." 

"Still got that red hair?" 

At that, Eddie laughed. "No, he's completely bald." 

Richie immediately joined him in laughing, doubling over and letting his snorts bubble up and out of him. Eddie knew what Richie must've been picturing - the image of sixteen year old Bill with a bald and shiny head, which was nothing like the Bill Eddie had seen earlier that day, although it was a much funnier picture than the reality.

Eddie shook his head. "God, can you believe it... Big Bill without any hair. He used to look like a Kennedy, didn't he? Well, now he looks like a fat Vin Diesel." This only made Richie uproar in even more laughter.

"Christ, is he really fat too?" Richie asked between wheezing gasps of laughter. 

"Well, not _fat_ but he definitely indulges in a little too much beer." He held out his hands in front of him, miming the shape of Bill's gut. "So like, what I bet Vin Diesel is gonna look like in about 20 years." 

 

"Damn, Eds! You just keep getting off the good ones!" Richie held out his hand, offering a high five which Eddie gladly accepted. The jokes kept flowing out of them, mostly directed at Bill, but by the end of the night, Eddie had tears of laughter slipping out of his eyes, and his jaw was sore from all of his laughter.

It was the best night of his life.

* * *

**May 27th, 2007 - Barnes & Noble - New York City, New York**

A week ago that morning Myra had started her first secretarial job again. This one was a well paying one at a successful law firm. It wasn't a large or particularly famous firm - but it did well and had some solid clients. Myra would fit in well there, and Richie more than anyone, was happy. 

Eddie had visibly relaxed since the update of Myra actually working. Before long, he'd be helping her get a bank loan, and then her own apartment, and then he'd move back into his place and his routine would return to normal.

Except, Richie didn't want him to move back.

Perhaps it was selfish, as the state of their relationship was really in a strange sort of limbo. He knew they were both awkwardly dancing around their feelings for each other. Richie _wanted_ to be with Eddie - but he knew it wasn't the best time for Eddie. Until he had Myra completely out of his life it would be weird to start dating, so Richie elected to wait patiently. But dammit, he could only be patient for so long. 

Between living together, the lingering stares, the brushes of their hands against each other, and _fuck,_ the intoxicating habit Eddie had of not sleeping with a shirt that had left Richie near drooling practically every morning when he saw him. On more than one occasion, Richie had to sneak off to the shower to finish off what he told himself was just morning wood and had nothing to do with the half-naked Eddie Kaspbrak sleeping in his living room.

But Richie kept himself together, and he didn’t push Eddie for anything more than what they already had. These things took time, and if it meant being with Eddie, Richie would take all of the damned time in the world. 

He agreed to go with Eddie to Bill’s final book signing in the city. It was going to be Richie’s last chance to meet him in a casual setting, and they both agreed that it wouldn’t be worth it to go and ruin his life when he was doing so well. If he didn’t remember, perhaps he was better off. But Eddie had been driving Bill around for the last week, and Richie hadn’t had the chance to see him at all. 

Which was what lead to them lining up with a hoard of horror novel fans waiting for their chance to meet Bill Denbrough. Each of them was carrying a copy of his latest book under their arms - it was the only way that they had been able to get in line to meet him in the first place. 

“Do you think people here will get mad if we never read the book?” Richie stage-whispered to Eddie, who stifled a laugh as the two older men in front of them immediately turned around to glare at them. “Good afternoon, gentlemen!” Richie spoke cheerily, giving them a wave. They turned away, whispering to each other. 

“You’re so obnoxious.” Eddie spoke, giggles slipping past his lips as he grinned towards him. 

“Not obnoxious, my dear, just friendly.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, but Richie noticed that his grin didn’t drop. 

“So, you don’t think our Big Bill is gonna remember us?” Richie had dropped his voice. Which Eddie was thankful for. He didn’t want anyone around them to get the impression that they knew him. Especially with the experience Eddie had had recently. Even as early as this morning when he dropped Bill off for this signing, he showed no sign of knowing Eddie aside from him being his driver. And Eddie was oddly okay with that. 

“Well, he’s going to know me but not… Not really.” Eddie explained. “I kinda hope you don’t jog his memory, Rich.” 

Richie gave a curt nod, looking down at the book and skimming through it. Eddie didn’t pay him much mind, idly glancing around the bookstore until Richie burst out laughing next to him. Eddie glanced towards him, confusion clear on his face. 

“Richie?”

Richie took a moment to contain his laughter, the older men glancing at him with a glare again. "Sorry, sorry, Eds it's just..." Laughter bubbled up from him again. "Holy shit. I need... I need to read this for you, Eds. You will not _believe-_ " Richie cut himself off there, swallowing down his giggles and taking in a deep breath.

_"Tara's warm breasts pressed tightly to his chest as he entered her. A gasp leaving her as his length touched parts of her that had never been reached by the other men she had been with before."_ Richie recited, struggling to retain his laughter. Eddie muffling giggles behind his hand. _"Nick's meaty cock slid into her rhythmically, pleasure coming easily to both of them as they thrust their sexes together. Quickly, Tara felt a blinding orgasm approaching."_

Richie took a breath, spurred on by the laughter that Eddie was poorly muffling with his hand, when the men in front of them from before turned to look at them. "Would you stop it?" One of them demanded.

"We're not here to have the book spoiled for us."

Eddie and Richie, who had both assumed the men weren't a fan of them reading smut aloud, were shocked to find that they weren't actually upset about _that_ ; they were upset because they hadn't read the book yet. Eddie and Richie shared a look, each of their faces burning red as they tried to contain their laughter.

"Oh, I apologize good sirs." Richie spoke with formality, giving a little bow towards them. "I can see why you're _very_ excited to get into this work. Do your wives enjoy Mr Denbrough's literature too?" 

Neither of them answered, turning their gazes ahead and taking a couple of steps forward as the lines moved. Eddie couldn't hold in his laughter anymore, slapping Richie's shoulder playfully. _"Beep beep, Richie!"_ The phrase only made Richie want to continue, but another glare shot towards them from the same two men was enough to make even Richie shut up for the moment.

"As much as I would love to continue with this little spree of giggles you're on, Eds. I also really wanna see Bill and I don't wanna get kicked out for spoiling his new book." Dramatically, he snapped it shut.

"It's a shame. I was starting to get turned on." Eddie told Richie sarcastically, and there was a glint behind the red framed glasses, as Richie bit his tongue. Eddie was sure there was some remark just begging to come off of the Trashmouth's lips, but for now, it would remain a mystery. 

About a half an hour later, they were stepping up to Bill's table. Richie turned to wave to the retreating form of the men from earlier. "It was nice meeting you guys!" He shouted out, making sure they heard him. "Hope you both have rocking orgas- OW!" Eddie had nudged him sharply in the hip with his elbow. "Jeez, Eds I was just saying goodbye to our new _friends._ What's the problem?" He asked. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, ignoring his spiel entirely. "I am sorry about my... Companion, Bill." 

"Oh? _Companion_ , really? What are you the fucking Doctor?"

"This is Richie Tozier." Eddie introduced him. "Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough." He motioned between them both. 

"Pleasure ta meet'cha, Mistah Denbrough!" Richie shook his head excitedly. "I'm sure Edward here has told ya all 'bout me, righ'?"

Bill looked to Eddie, a little bit flustered. "I've seen your comedy specials. But I didn't know that you two knew each other. But it's nice to meet you! Are you a fan?" He almost looked hopeful, and Richie didn't have the heart to take that away from him.

"The biggest, Denbrough! You can't believe how excited I am to get into this book. Just reading the summary Tara and Nick's relationship already seems explosive!" It was easy for Richie to talk animatedly already, faking his interest convincingly well. Eddie found it strangely touching. Even though he knew precisely what Richie was referring to. Still, seeing Bill light up like that was comfortable. It was familiar. And Eddie liked seeing it on his old friends aging face.

"I'm really glad you think so, Richie. I really enjoyed writing this book and their relationship just came so naturally to me. It felt so... Familiar to me. I like to think that I drew inspiration from my wife and myself." 

Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing out loud.

There wasn't much more real discussion between them. Eddie and Richie didn't want to hold up the line too much, so, a couple of jokes were exchanged before Bill finally signed their books and sent the two men off on their way. Eddie promised he would be back in a couple of hours to take Bill back to his hotel - and that was that.

"Was it everything you imagined it would be?" Eddie asked Richie. Richie adjusted his glasses on his nose and shrugged a little. "I mean, he was... He was Bill, that was for sure. He didn't stutter. I don't know why I expected him to stutter still... God, was it as surreal for you? I feel like I'm straight up walking out of a dream... Is that what you felt?" 

Eddie nodded a little. "Yeah, something like that. It's weird, I guess. To know so much about him and have him look back at us and not at all have an idea about who we are, or what it used to be like."

"I wonder why he doesn't remember." 

Eddie pursed his lips. Of course, the question had been on his mind too. "I don't know." 

"Are you jealous?" 

The question struck Eddie out of nowhere, and he wasn't sure what Richie wanted out of it. He glanced towards him, but Richie wasn't even watching him. His eyes were scanning over the cover of the book for what must've been the hundredth time since they had gotten in line at the store. Richie held open the door for Eddie, letting him step out first. Eddie looked over Richie again, and a warmth formed in the pit of his stomach. "No, I'm not jealous. Are you?" 

Richie didn't hesitate. "Not at all. Wanna get some dinner before you're back on the job?" 

And they did.

* * *

**May 27th, 2007 - Richie Tozier's Apartment - New York City, New York**

Richie sat alone in his bed. Eddie, after dinner, had gone to pick up Bill, who invited them both out to get drinks with him (as Eddie had explained over a phone call.) Richie declined, saying he had to open the store in the morning. This wasn't a lie, but it had also never stopped him from going out and drinking. While it would've been nice to go and hang out with Bill some more, Richie wouldn't indulge himself in the ache in his chest that would come along with it. He didn't think alcohol would numb it out. 

So, in his bed alone he sat. A Friends rerun played on the small TV in his bedroom, his bare legs crossed on his sheets while he held Bill's book in his lap, opened to the back cover. He was married. He lived in England. He was _so successful_ \- was Richie jealous? That should've been him. That should've been him in LA with Isabelle and starring in the latest blockbusters and living the life that he had always dreamed. And where was he now? Sitting in an apartment above his mildly successful record shop where his ex-boyfriend slept in the living room and a clown haunted his dreams.

Yes, he was jealous. 

"Things are getting better." Richie spoke aloud to himself - and it felt better to hear the words actually landing on his ears. He took in a deep breath. "Things are getting better. You care about yourself again, don't you, Tozier? And you have Eds. He cares about you. Fuck, he might even _love_ you. Don't you want that?" 

A nasty voice sprouted from nowhere in the back of his mind. _Isabelle loved you._ An uncomfortable knot twisted in his stomach and Richie experienced the sudden urge to throw up. 

"Eddie isn't Isabelle." 

_Eddie would've cheated on Myra._

"That's different. Eddie's gay." 

_Is it really different though?_

Richie was sure it was - besides, it was one impulsive kiss. He didn't actively cheat on Myra. And even knowing that he had broken up with her, Eddie hadn't made a singular move towards Richie, which was a little frustrating... But it did make Richie feel better. He could trust Eddie... He could trust Eddie, right? 

_Can you?_

"Yes." Richie thought without hesitation. "Yes, I can trust Eddie." It made sense to him, it felt natural, and Richie felt all the more relaxed at the thought. He trusted Eddie. He...

He trusted Eddie. 

With a small smile on his lips, Richie redirected his gaze back towards the book in his lap and opened it up, flipping to the front page with Bill's inscription.

_Richie Tozier!_

_Wow! Never thought you'd show up at one of my signings. Never took you for the reading type. But, it was great to meet you and thank you so much for coming out and for your support. I'd really love to hang out sometime. Hope to see you again soon, and I hope you enjoy reading._

_Your friend, Bill Denbrough._

Richie leaned back, propping his back up with his pillows and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a short chapter after so long! But, I hope it was worth the wait! I had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you all find it to be as funny as I do! Thank you for reading! <3


	11. step nine: celebrate love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie attend the engagement party of Veronica and Sophie.

**June 2nd, 2007 - Wentworth and Maggie Toziers Home - Beverly Hills, California**

Richie’s room was being occupied by his grandparents, so Eddie and Richie were camped up in a hotel. Which wasn’t bad - Eddie was actually thankful. He knew it was a little strange for him to bring “just a friend” to his sisters engagement party, but Eddie needed to take some time away from his stresses, and Richie was insistent on his attendance. It seemed to perfectly fall into their laps.

Richie was nervous to bring Eddie home, although he wouldn’t show it. The relationship between the two of them was still unspoken, but Richie was sure they were edging on being more than friends, something he was absolutely desperate for. It was getting harder and harder to ignore his attraction towards Eddie, and god, Richie hoped desperately that they were on the same page in that regard. He wasn’t sure he could handle a rejection from Eddie right now. So, he kept quiet, electing to let Eddie make that decision when the time came.

His parents had been living in the same house ever since they had moved to California, and while it was certainly too big for just two people, they were attached to it, and it always made it easy for Richie or Veronica to come back home and take up their old rooms. Like now, Richie drove the rental car up to the property and lead Eddie up to the door, unlocking the door with the same key he had always had and stepping in.

"Mags? Went?" Richie called out. It was a habit he had always had, occasionally referring to his parents by nicknames. "You guys home?"

There was the sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs, and quickly descending down them was a face Eddie recognized from the magazines, but made Richie's whole expression light up. "Is that Miss Sophie Hammond?" 

She certainly _looked_ like a model. Short red hair in loose curls as she bounded down the stairs with a bright grin. "Only if that's Mr Richie Tozier?" She asked him with a laugh. Richie grinned, opening his arms as she finally came down. He embraced her tightly, lifting her up and spinning around with her. 

"It's been forever!" Richie exclaimed with a laugh. "How are you?" He set her down and stepped back a little.

"Well, I've been good. You know.." She held out her hand, boasting the diamond ring on her finger. "Proudly engaged to your gorgeous sister. Definitely the highlight of my life. What about you? How's the shop doing?"

"Oh you know. Same as usual. Making good money, and I love the place." He really did. "Ah, shit. Sorry-" Richie's memory and his manners caught up with him when he caught Eddie in the corner of his eye, looking around the foyer quietly. "I didn't introduce you to my best pal Eds." He wrapped his arm around Eddie's shoulder, pulling him to his side.

"Please, don't call me Eds." He told her, extending his hand politely. "Eddie Kaspbrak. Pleasure to meet you, Sophie."

She grasped his hand and gave a shake. "Nice to meet you too, Eddie."

Sophie gave Richie a look, arching her brows with a playful smirk on her face. She winked, and Richie felt his cheeks redden. "Everyone's just out in the backyard, I think? Wentworth's manning the barbecue. We're having steak tonight, you know... Something nice before we all get stuffed with hor d'oeuves tomorrow." Sophie explained. Richie and Eddie both offered a chuckle.

Richie kept his arm around Eddie, noting how he didn't show any sign of wanting to step away from him. He was more than content to keep him under his arm anyways. Sophie opened the sliding door and they all stepped out.

"Mom, dad, do you remember Eddie?" Because Richie wasn't entirely sure if they did. Sure, he had told them that Eddie had been his friend from back in Derry, but... Well, he had forgotten him too. He didn't want them to feel bad for forgetting, especially since he couldn't explain _why_ they had forgotten.

Maggie smiled. "Of course we do. How're you doing, Eddie?" Though Eddie wouldn't be able to tell, Richie saw right through her. She didn't remember, which meant Wentworth didn't remember either. But that was just fine - they didn't need to remember.

"I'm good. Thank you for having us out here." Eddie let himself be pulled into Maggie's light hug, and accepted a clap on the shoulder from Wentworth. The Tozier parents were just like he remembered them - warm and happy people, seeming to be bemused with Richie and his eccentric behavior.

"Anytime, Eds." Eddie shot Richie a glare. He grinned at him. "You're welcome whenever you want. In fact, don't bring Rich next time. We're sick of seeing his mug around here." Wentworth joined, and despite the words, Richie felt his heart warming at the loud laugh that came from Eddie's lips. 

"Oh, I would love to. But I just can't get rid of him. He's stuck on me like a leech."

Richie couldn't help but laugh at that as well. "Well, fine, if _none_ of you want me here I guess I'll just leave!"

"Aw, no." Veronica whined, turning away from where she and Sophie had been quietly talking together. Unbeknownst to Eddie and Richie, the pair was betting on the nature of their relationship. "You can't go. I can't not have my most annoying brother at my engagement party."

"I'm your only brother."

"The point still stands!"

Richie had rolled his eyes, but elected to stay anyways (although he did put up a bit more of a fight and made everyone promise that they _really really really_ wanted him there). But, once he had that, the night went perfectly well. About 20 minutes later the elder Tozier's showed up at the door, having flown in from Florida. Richie had helped them get settled into his room, and then they were ready to sit down and eat together. 

And god, did Eddie ever fit perfectly into his family. Richie did feel a little bad for all of his attention being on Eddie when the evening was really supposed to be celebrating Ronnie and Sophie (not so subtly holding hands under the table when they weren't using their knives) but he couldn't help it! They had eaten outside, and Eddie looked so beautiful in the light of the setting sun and he spent a good amount of time talking and laughing and exchanging jokes with Wentworth (most of which were at Richie's expense, but that just made it all the funnier in his mind.)

He thought about maybe one day coming back to this same group only this time it would be to celebrate an engagement between he and Eddie. Wouldn't that ever be nice? His parents, his sister and sister-in-law, his grandparents... And his fiancé. Richie knew he had been lucky enough to have that once before (minus Sophie) with Isabelle... But she never clicked with his family quite like Eddie did. 

No one had ever slipped into his life and wrapped Richie around their little pinky finger like Eddie had. How could Richie ever want to be with anyone else?

"Are you going to be giving me heart eyes all night?" Eddie asked when they were in the privacy of the rental car, and the statement took Richie by surprise. He coughed, trying to mask it by starting up the car.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"You totally do. You're blushing! You didn't even _congratulate_ your sister, Richie." Eddie was laughing, shaking his head. "You were just staring at me the whole night. I just didn't want to say anything in front of everyone, but it was really obvious. They definitely noticed. And you kept touching me too! Or did you not even notice you were doing that? Wrapping your arm around me. Putting your hand on my knee... You even tried to hold my hand once."

Eddie was right - Richie was blushing. His cheeks as red as a tomato while his eyes were pointedly ahead on the road. He was always a cautious driver, but it wasn't unusual for him to spare a glance towards his passenger while they were talking, but he didn't dare do so now. "Eddie..." He said, unsure of anything else he could possibly think to add. He was at a loss. God, he didn't even notice he had been that obvious.

"I mean, I can't say I hated the attention but... This is about your sister, Richie. You gotta pay some attention to her, you know."

Then, Eddie did something Richie couldn't have possibly prepared for. He placed his hand on Richie's knee while he drove. There was a light firmness to his grip, and his thumb brushed along his inner knee. 

"Jesus Christ, who are you and what have you done with Eddie? Or am I dreaming? Either way, there is no way you're really doing this and saying that." He tried to pass it off as a joke, like he did with nearly everything. Eddie merely rolled his eyes, like he did with nearly everything that Richie said.

"I mean... I mean I think I'm ready for us to finally talk, Richie. You were driving me crazy today and... You've been driving me crazy for like two months. Or, I guess over 20 years but... It really matters now. I want to figure this out." Eddie's nerves on the matter were evident, and honestly, that didn't help Richie calm down. He carefully took one hand off of the steering wheel to rest it on top of Eddie's hand. Not quite holding hands, but they were touching, and Richie thought that was enough for now.

"Okay, Eds. We'll talk."

"Don't call me Eds."

Richie smiled, and they were both quiet from there. Not a tense silence; a little awkward, sure, but Richie wasn't sure what exactly this conversation was going to be. Or how to start it. Or if Eddie wanted to start it now. Maybe they'd just wait until they were back in the hotel? That seemed like a reasonable idea to him. Eddie must've been on the same page because he didn't make any more attempts at conversation either, merely keeping his hand on Richie's knee and letting the time pass.

When they finally made their way into the hotel room Richie realized how difficult this was really going to be. Their room had two double beds and a kitchenette, which gave them plenty of room to put space between them. Eddie went to sit on his bed, while Richie went to the kitchenette. 

“Do you want anything?” He asked Eddie. 

“Water, please.” 

Richie produced two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one of towards Eddie. He caught it with ease and twisted it open. Richie watched with cotton mouth as Eddie easily drank down half the bottle. He didn’t open his own bottle. 

“I don’t know where I want to start.” Eddie stated first. 

“Me neither.” 

“Okay.”

Eddie took a breath. Richie noticed how Eddie refused to look directly at him, and he couldn’t blame him. Richie didn’t think he could handle it very well either if Eddie looked him right in the eyes.

“First of all… I can’t really thank you enough, Richie. For letting me stay with you while Myra gets herself sorted out… For… For being patient with me while I get _myself_ sorted out again. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get _involved_ until I was moved out again but…” 

Richie was quick to jump in after that. “We can wait, Eddie. If you want to wait - we can. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.” 

Eddie’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he shook his head. “If I keep waiting and waiting and waiting until I’m completely comfortable, I’m never going to do anything worthwhile, Richie.” Eddie explained. “I’m always going to be a little scared. I’m actually terrified now. But… I’m not going to let that hold me back. I... “ He was scared, and Richie knew it. But he stayed quiet, merely taking a couple steps closer towards Eddie while he tried to find his words. “I want to be with you, Richie. Do you want to be with me?” 

“Fuck, Eds, is that even a question?” Richie asked him, letting out a small laugh. “Of course I want to be with you. I’ve _always_ wanted to be with you… Even when I didn’t know it. It’s… For me, it’s always been you.” It must’ve been the most romantic thing he had ever said. 

Eddie laughed a little, bringing up a hand to wipe at his eyes. “Me too. I feel the same way, Richie.” He confessed. Richie grinned, his water bottle abandoned on the counter in the kitchen as he stepped towards Eddie and gathered him up into his arms. Eddie gasped as Richie lifted him up off of the bed and spun him around. 

“Yowza! Look at me! Richie Tozier, luckiest man in the whole wide world! With the cute cute cuuuutest guy with a crush on me!” 

Eddie laughed, squirming and wiggling in an attempt to free himself from Richie’s grip. “Oh shut up! Beep beep! Put me down!” Although for someone who wanted to be put down, he was sure doing one hell of a good job keeping his grip tight on Richie. But, he got his wish. Richie placed him gently onto the ground again and moved his hands to cup Eddie’s cheeks instead, forcing him to meet his eyes with an intensity only provided by someone who was desperately in love.

“I mean it, Eds, I really think I’m the luckiest guy in the whole world.” Richie confided in him. He felt Eddie’s cheeks heat up before he saw the effects of it. 

“I think I am too.” Eddie confessed, and he did something Richie didn’t expect. He made the first move. He leaned up on his toes and pressed his lips against Richie’s. It was everything Richie had wanted it to be, and this time, there was no guilt nagging in the back of his mind. There was no Myra to worry about, there was no one they were going to hurt by doing this… They were both free, and they were allowed to kiss. 

And kiss they did. Richie moved one of his hands to hold the back of Eddie’s neck instead, keeping him held tight as their lips easily moved with each other, the muscle memory of kissing each other easily coming back to them. Richie felt a familiar warmth pooling in his stomach and the hairs on the back of his neck rising up in response to every little touch Eddie made. 

As Eddie’s confidence grew, his hands roamed. First awkwardly between their torsos to then rest on Richie’s chest, and then balling up in his shirt to pull him in closer. Richie stumbled, and the pair fell back onto Eddie’s bed. Richie just barely caught himself, but still managed to elbow Eddie in the ribs. “Fuck!” They both exclaimed at once. 

“Shit, sorry, Eds.” Richie laughed a little, adjusting himself over him making sure not to crush him under his weight. 

“It’s okay.” Eddie muttered, bringing his hand to the back of Richie’s head to pull him back into a kiss. This time, Eddie pressed harder against his lips, and poked out his tongue against Richie’s lips. Richie willingly let him in, groaning softly as Eddie licked into his mouth. He ran his fingers through Eddie’s hair, massaging their tongues together until he could offer the same treatment to him - sliding his tongue between Eddie’s lips, and focusing on Eddie feeling good… Until he wrapped his lips around Richie’s tongue and sucked. Richie couldn’t help the buck of his hips against Eddie’s as his jeans were suddenly feeling much too tight. 

But Eddie didn’t seem to mind, hooking one leg around Richie’s waist and grinding their hips together in slow, purposeful movements while Richie’s tongue was still in his mouth and Richie could only react instinctively - his mind in a haze of comfort and arousal. 

He drew his lips away from Eddie’s, only to latch onto his neck instead. Pressing heavy open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin. Eddie tilted his head back to allow easier access while a whine of “Richieeee” slipped past his lips. Richie gave a particularly rough grind of his hips that had Eddie moaning in the sweetest way possible. Richie was falling in love all over again with those sweet noises. He couldn’t wait to hear the delicious sounds Eddie would make as he took him apart. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Richie spoke against Eddie’s neck, dragging his teeth along his skin, making Eddie shudder beneath him. Richie picked up the pace of the roll of his hips, desperate for more friction on his crotch. 

He reached between them, going to undo his belt when Eddie’s hand joined his, grabbing his wrist. At first, he assumed Eddie was going to shuck his pants off for him, so Richie sucked down on his neck, but instead, Eddie moaned again, before letting out a quiet, “stop.” 

Of course, Richie did without hesitation, his hips going still and he lifted his head away from Eddie’s neck. His breaths coming out in heavy breaths, and his eyes stuck on Eddie’s flushed face. A thin layer of sweat left some hair sticking to the front of his face. “I’m sorry.” Eddie told him. “It’s okay… It’s okay just… I haven’t… With…” Richie realized what he was saying, and a lazy grin spread across his lips. He chuckled. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve only slept with one guy. It’s been a couple years for me too.” A one-night stand shortly after his divorce with Isabelle that Richie hadn’t thought about for a long time. And even then, it was only a fleeting thought before Eddie was the only thing on Richie’s mind once again. “We don’t… Have to if you’re not ready, Eddie.” Richie added after, pressing a little kiss to Eddie’s nose. 

“Not tonight.” He decided, biting his lip as he curled his fingers in Richie’s hair. “But maybe… We could share this bed tonight?” 

“Now that I can do!” Richie grinned, rolling off of Eddie. “Wanna get changed first? Then we can cuddle up?” With Eddie’s nod of affirmation, he went over to his bed, picking up his suitcase and pulling out his pajamas. Richie headed over to the bathroom to change, and while he was there he took the time to brush his teeth, giving Eddie ample privacy and time to change. 

“You decent, Eddie?” He called out once he was ready. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Eddie answered. Richie stepped out of the bathroom to find Eddie laying in bed, already under the covers and propped up on his elbow, flipping through a magazine from the hotel room. It was outdated. He had turned off the lights too, the only source being the lamp beside Eddie’s bed. Their bed. 

“You gonna go brush your teeth?” Richie asked, climbing into bed behind Eddie. He wrapped his arm loosely around Eddie’s waist, brushing his lips against the back of his neck as he settled in beside him. 

“Already did. In the sink.” He explained. Richie glanced over and noted the bottle of toothpaste still beside it. He didn’t question it any further than that and took off his glasses, setting them onto the side table before finally settling down comfortably behind Eddie, who clicked off the light and dropped the magazine onto the floor. Richie pressed himself close behind him. 

“When was the last time you were the little spoon, Eds?” Richie asked, slightly muffled against the back of Eddie’s neck. 

“I dunno. When was the last time we cuddled?” Eddie responded. It was evidently supposed to be a bit of a joke, but it made Richie’s heart hurt. He pulled Eddie impossibly tighter to him. 

“We can cuddle all the time now.” Richie muttered to him. “You don’t have to sleep on that air mattress anymore.. You can come stay in my bed. It’ll be just like old times… Like nothing ever happened, Eds. Like we never forgot.” He felt Eddie’s hand resting over his, and their fingers lacing together. 

“Thank you.” Eddie said quietly. And neither of them spoke after that. Richie treated the back of Eddie’s neck to sweet gentle kisses, but it wasn’t long until they had both dozed off in the comfort of each others embrace.

* * *

**June 4th, 2007 - The Hilton - Los Angeles, California**

The engagement party ended up being a smaller, more personal family affair than Richie had anticipated. Which had its ups and downs. It was nice that it wasn’t crowded or advertised. There weren’t any attempts of paparazzi trying to sneak in which he appreciated (although he was certain that was for Sophie’s benefit rather than his. Being a D-List celebrity trying to claw his way back to the A-List didn’t make him any less of a D-List.) The hardest part was how difficult it was to lay low about him and Eddie. This was about Veronica and Sophie, after all, and they didn’t want to acknowledge their relationship and risk taking some of the attention, so they kept six inches of space between them and kept enough innocence about them. 

Well, for the most part. 

The caterers seemed to have an endless supply of champagne coming around on trays and Eddie was taking glass after glass. At around his fifth, Richie decided it was about time he intervened. “Eds, I think you’ve had enough.” 

Eddie whined, but Richie just shook his head. “Eddie.” A name he seldom used, and even in his alcohol addled mind, Eddie knew that meant he was serious. “You’ve had enough, okay? You don’t need to get completely shitfaced at my sisters engagement party.” 

And speak of the Devil, that was when Veronica decided to show up beside them - a glass of champagne in her hand which Eddie eyed enviously. “You guys having fun?” 

Richie easily nodded. “I think Eds might be having a little too much fun.” He teased, giving Eddie a playful nudge that nearly toppled him over entirely. Richie grabbed his elbow to stable him. “He’s had a little bit too much to drink.” He explained. 

“I have not!” Eddie argued immediately. “It’s just good champagne and I’ve had a perfectly reasonable amount of it.” 

Veronica laughed a little, shaking her head in amusement. “He’s right, Richie. Don’t ruin his fun. We’re supposed to be celebrating! What better way to celebrate than to drink yourself silly?” She knocked back the rest of her glass, earning a cheer from Eddie. 

“You’re really an enabler, aren’t you, Ronnie?” Richie asked her in amusement, shaking his head with a small laugh. “You’re really gonna make this difficult for me, huh?” 

“Actually I think I might be easier like this.” Eddie commented, winking. Richie felt his cheeks heating up and Veronica let out a loud bubbling laugh. 

“Oh my God, I love him.” Veronica grinned. “You better bring him to the wedding, Rich. I think I might want him to toast instead of you.” She teased, grinning brightly. 

“You know I think I’d be better at it than Richie is anyways. I think he’d find some way to make the toast about his dick.” Which was completely untrue, Richie was about to argue, but Eddie stalled his attempts as he went and continued on. “Which I’m sure would be _hilarious_ but it’s supposed to be about you! About you and Sophie! Where is that crazy lil ginger?” He whipped his head around, trying to spot her in the mass of dark hair that mostly belonged to Tozier family members. There was a few other redheads and blondes that Eddie spotted and immediately assumed to be Sophie. It wasn’t until Veronica parted for a couple of minutes (Eddie not even noticing) and coming back with Sophie that he got himself back on track. “There she is! God, if I liked women…” He winked. 

“Oh, and if I liked men.” Sophie winked back, her arm around Veronica’s waist who was laughing into her shoulder. 

“Hey, Eddie. Have you met our cousin Laiba yet? I think you’ll love her.” Veronica extended her hand out towards him, and Eddie happily took it, bounding off with her into the crowd to find Laiba. Sophie and Richie were left behind. 

“So, how long have you two been dating?” 

The question took Richie by surprise, and he coughed into his elbow. “W-What?” 

“I said, how long have you been dating? And don’t play dumb with me, Richie. You don’t just bring a guy across the country to your sisters engagement party if you’re not dating. So, how long? Does anyone know yet? Or am I part of some sort of secret club?” 

Richie rolled his eyes dramatically. “We’re not… We haven’t talked about it.” He decided to say with a small sigh. “I mean, we have, but we haven’t labelled it, I guess? He wanted to be with me, but he was with this girl, then his mom died, and he broke up with his girlfriend but she’s still living in his apartment until she can get her own place and it’s… It’s messy. And we still want to be together but we’re not there yet? But we did make out the other night but I don’t know if it… If it’s really a thing yet? Maybe it’s just the mood?” Richie was rambling before he even knew it, but Sophie was patient. She nodded along as Richie explained his dilemma. 

“Well, I mean… The obvious solution is that you two need to talk.” 

“No shit.” 

“Hey, don’t get snappy. I’m just saying… If you like this guy, and you’re friends at least… You need to discuss this… Whatever it is. Maybe you have to wait a bit more. Maybe he’s not as interested anymore, but I doubt that. He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.” Did he? Richie hadn’t noticed. “But it’s possible, I guess… Just… I dunno. Wait till you get back to New York and see what happens?” Sophie suggested. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess that’s the plan. He’s just my best friend, Soph. I don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

“Oh honey.” She leaned up to press a light kiss onto his cheek. “You’re a Tozier. Of course you’re gonna fuck it up.”

* * *

Later that evening, Richie found himself guiding a far too drunk Eddie into bed. They weren’t going to share a bed that night, Richie decided as he helped Eddie out of his jacket. Eddie was rambling on something about the previous season of _Big Brother._ He undid each button of Eddie’s shirt and slipped it off his shoulders, then carefully removed his belt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. 

“I’m cold.” Eddie stopped his spiel about Mike Boogie when he was nearly nude, and Richie let out a laugh. 

“Yeah, I bet, Eds.” He took him by the hands and lead him to bed. “You’re gonna feel a whole lot worse than cold in the morning.” He noted, moving the blankets away for Eddie to get in, then tucking him in. “I’m gonna get you some water for the morning, okay?” 

Eddie still whined and complained as Richie walked away to get a bottle of water from the fridge, but stopped when he came back into sight. He set the water and a bottle of Advil down on the end table and knelt down on the floor in front of the bed. His hand instinctively curled into Eddie’s hair. 

“You’re pretty.” Eddie commented in a whisper, as though he was sharing a secret. 

“Thank you. I think you’re pretty too.” Richie laughed a little. 

“Are you getting into bed?” 

“Yeah, I will soon. I just wanna make sure you get to sleep okay.” Which meant without throwing up. Eddie tilted his head into Richie’s touch and hummed as his scalp was lightly scratched. It was a comforting feeling, and Richie liked watching how relaxed Eddie got under his touch. 

“Can you kiss me?” Eddie asked him. Richie’s hand stilled for a moment, before resuming the action. He could kiss him, right? Eddie wasn’t _completely_ out of his mind… And they had kissed completely sober. It was just a little kiss. He leaned in and pressed a small peck gently onto his lips. Eddie smiled brightly. “Thank you.” 

And almost instantly, he fell asleep. 

Maybe it was a little creepy, but Richie stayed by his side and watched him sleep for a couple of minutes, before he got up and went about his nightly routine. When he was ready for bed, he stopped, seriously debating climbing in behind Eddie and cuddling up with him like they had slept the last two nights… but in the end he decided to give him the space. They needed to talk before Richie got too attached to holding him close at night. He climbed into his own bed, and fell asleep alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's the moment you've all been waiting for!! reddie is finally getting together!! i had a lot of fun writing this chapter, it was really sweet and lighthearted and i hope you all enjoy it!


	12. step ten: stand your ground

**June 12th, 2007 - Richie (and Eddie’s) Apartment - New York City, New York**

Eddie could’ve moved back home three days ago. _Could have._ But he didn’t. And if he was being honest, he didn’t want to. This wasn’t a fact he was too keen to vocalize. It was an unspoken agreement between he and Richie from the day he had helped Myra move out and then went back to Richie’s place to sleep on his blow up mattress again. There was a couple of times where Richie wanted to ask him if he was going to go back, but addressing the matter meant that the comfortable existence they had built together might shatter, and Richie didn’t want to risk that. 

So, they stayed together, dancing around what was really happening between them while Eddie “sorted his feelings out.” 

Now that the taste of Eddie’s lips was fresh on Richie’s mouth it was harder to pretend like he wasn’t just dying to kiss him again. Richie liked to think the glances he caught Eddie taking at him were signs that he was thinking the same thing, but Eddie seemed to be more subtle. His gaze didn’t linger on Richie, like Richie’s did on Eddie. He didn’t stare at Richie’s lips while they chatted. He didn’t watch the rise and fall of his chest while they were supposed to be watching a movie together. Or watch the way his fingers brushed against his lips when he chewed at his nails (mostly because Richie didn’t have that habit like Eddie did. He probably should’ve found it gross, but there was something borderline sexy about his soft lips being slightly parted around the tips of his fingers and _God_ was he really that fucking horny?) 

This all boiled over the day Richie came back from his meeting with the SNL writers room to find Eddie wrapped only in his towel, bending over his suitcase and searching for something. 

“Holy shit Eds you’re going to kill me.” 

“What?” Eddie looked up, seeming to not have heard Richie. He didn’t seem to be bothered by his own near nudity. 

“Okay, Eddie, fuck.” Richie ran his hand over his face, skewing his glasses and groaning. “Look, I really, _really_ didn’t want to push you but you can’t just walk around this place half naked and expect me to not want to fuck you.”

Well, that surely did it. Eddie’s cheeks flushed brightly and it was like the words were sucked right out of him. His mouth opening and closing like a fish struggling for breath, and Richie couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Jesus, fuck, I’m sorry Eds…. God… I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall with his head tilted back. He didn’t look as he heard Eddie scurrying off to the bathroom, undoubtedly to change.

* * *

From there, they didn’t speak of the incident, and Richie was thankful for that. Eddie wasn’t weird about it either, which was absolutely the part Richie was most thankful for. The second his Trashmouth couldn’t keep those words in, he had been worried what they had been building for was going to fall apart but… It wasn’t. An hour after that, Eddie had left for work, and Richie fixed dinner. Three hours later, Eddie was home and they ate together talking about their days. The incident didn’t come up once. 

Their nightly routine continued. They sat together in the living room on opposite ends of the couch, watching reruns of M.A.S.H and Friends and laughing at particularly funny jokes. Then, a little after 11:30, Richie bid him a good night and headed off to bed. 

There was still a lot to think about. Eddie wouldn’t stop running through his head. 

Richie had realized that it was long ago, further back than he can really remember, that he had decided it would always be Eddie. No one would ever be able to compare to him, not in any meaningful way. _He loved him._ And love was complicated and scary. Especially after Isabella… He hadn’t heard from her in a while. Almost too long. Was she married yet? Was he going to marry again? Would he be allowed to marry Eddie? Maybe in Massachusetts but… Who wanted to get married in Boston? 

Would Eddie even want to marry him? Did he want to marry Eddie? 

It was a thought that cut Richie to his core. He didn’t like, but… They had kissed the once, and then Eddie seemed to have forgotten all about it. Or he _wanted_ to forget about it. Richie was suddenly convinced that he didn’t feel that way anymore - but then why was he still living here? Wouldn’t he want to leave? Why was this all so crazy? None of it made any sense! 

His bedroom door cracked open, and Richie sat up in bed. In the dark, blinking towards him was the familiar form of Eddie. 

“Rich?” 

“Yeah? You okay?” 

“Sorry to wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me up.” 

There was a beat of silence as Eddie stepped into the room. The door shutting softly behind him. Richie watched dumbly as Eddie moved towards the bed, climbing in silently beside Richie and settling himself under the blanket. Richie didn’t move. 

“Are you going to lay down?” Eddie asked. 

“Yeah.” But it took a moment for his body to catch up with his brain. He laid back beside Eddie, who didn’t move any closer to him, staying on his side (facing Richie) while Richie laid on his back. They didn’t speak.

After fifteen minutes, he heard the quiet sound of Eddie snoring. Richie wasn’t sure what the hell had happened, but there was no fucking way he was going to complain. A short while later, he too fell asleep. He’d wake up with his left arm cradled around Eddie like a teddy bear.

* * *

**June 13th, 2007 - Richie (and Eddie’s) Apartment - New York City, New York**

They shared the bed again, only this time, Eddie didn’t sneak in.

* * *

And the next night.

* * *

And the next.

* * *

**June 20th, 2007 - Richie (and Eddie’s) Apartment - New York City, New York**

The clock radio beside his bed tells Richie it’s about nine am when he wakes up with Eddie still curled up next to him. They had changed from sleeping next to each other to full on cuddling over the past week, and while neither of them have talked about it… Well, Richie wasn’t sure it needed to be said. They hadn’t kissed again, but they were getting there. Eddie was taking his time with this for God knows what reason - but it was something. And Richie could wait. 

Eddie’s nose was squished against his neck, and Richie stroked his hand up and down Eddie’s bare back. Gentle fingers exploring the expanse of skin, finding the little divots and curves and becoming familiar with the warm feeling of his skin. 

“Morning.” Eddie mumbled, muffled against Richie’s neck. Neither have work today, which meant neither of them had any reason to leave this bed. 

“Morning, Eds.” Richie echoed, turning his head towards him. His lips brushing against Eddie’s blonde hair. A small smile etched on his face. 

The silence that follows is comfortable, and welcomed. Only lasting a couple of minutes before Eddie shifts, his leg sliding over Richie’s waist until he’s half straddling him, and Richie feels his lips moving against his neck. Warm and wet. Richie stiffens slightly. “What’cha doing, Eds?”

Eddie didn’t give him much of an answer aside from rolling his hips against Richie’s thigh, and that was when he really noticed how hard Eddie had gotten. Jesus, did he wake up like that? “I want you.” Eddie muttered against his neck, shifting to sit up and straddle him entirely. Richie felt himself stirring in his boxers. 

“Eds, hang on…” He reached for his hips, stilling the slow, tantalizing grind Eddie had started. “I dunno what gay porn you’ve been watching, Eds but you can’t just… I mean unless that’s not what you wanted? I just mean uh, if we’re going to have _sex_ \- which I am definitely into by the way - there’s uh… You can’t just go into it. There’s prep you need to do, and uh, cleaning and…” 

As Richie trailed off, a bright flush formed on Eddie’s cheeks. “So you don’t… You don’t just... ?” He rolled his hips again, and this time, Richie couldn’t help but buck up onto him. Eddie let out a moan, and it took all of his willpower not to try and make Eddie make that noise again. 

“No… No, it’s really not that easy, Eddie.” Richie laughed a little. “Wish it was. But… I don’t think we can.” He stroked his hip up and down, letting out a small sigh. “Besides, Eds… Shouldn’t we talk about this? I wanted to give you your space to figure things out but… I don’t even know what we’re doing. You can’t just…” 

And so, Eddie slid off of him. Richie let him go willing as he shifted over to lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.” Eddie said first, rubbing his face. “You’re right. I just… I don’t know what m’doing, Rich… I didn’t… I missed you. I miss being with you but it… I’m not a teenager anymore. Everyone in my life thinks I’m straight and-” 

“They did back then too.” 

Eddie laughed humorlessly. “Did they?” 

Richie didn’t have a proper answer for that. He rolled over to face Eddie, reaching his hand to turn Eddie’s face to look towards him. His thumb carefully tracing along Eddie’s cheekbone. “You know you don’t have to go broadcasting who you’re dating, right? I wanna be with you too, Eds. And if we start dating you don’t have to go send a singing telegram to everyone you know announcing your sexuality. It’s your business… You can take all the time you need.” 

His head tilted into Richie’s touch, the words evidently sinking into him. He let out a small sigh. “I’m sorry Rich.” He said again. “I want that.” 

“Yeah?” He asked to be sure. Eddie nodded, and a small grin spread itself across Richie’s face. “I want that too.” 

Eddie shifted forward, connecting their lips in a drawn out and slow kiss. It was sweet and gentle, a kiss that echoed in the memories of their teenage years together. Richie wrapped his arms tight around Eddie, pulling him flush against his chest and holding him tight and close. Although, it would never be quite close enough.

* * *

**June 23rd, 2007 - Richie (and Eddie’s apartment) - New York City, New York**

Three days into dating was absolutely too soon to ask this, but Richie felt it was necessary at this point. 

His day at the record shop was about the same as normal. R, with a knowing smile, inquired about the fact that Eddie was _still_ living there. And Nat, with flushed cheeks and a small look of disappointment in her eyes listened on as Richie confirmed the fact that Eddie was still there, but nothing beyond that. He’d later catch the two talking quietly about the nature of the relationship and R rolling their eyes and reminding Nat that she was a little too young for Richie. He was flattered, to say the least. 

But it was that discussion that lead to Richie posing the question while the two cuddled up on the couch, watching Friends reruns as they typically did, although now they sometimes missed whole episodes by being too distracted in the taste of each others mouths. 

“Eds?” 

“Mhm?” His lips trailed down to Richie’s jaw, and he let out a breathy sigh. 

“Eds, baby… C’mon, I wanna talk about something.” He asked. At that, Eddie willingly detached from his neck to look up towards him with those bright doe eyes that made Richie want to melt. “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to properly move in here.” He offered. “I mean you’ve been living here anyways, and… And we’re together now. I know it’s early but… It just makes sense, you know?” 

Eddie appeared to be surprised by the offer, for reasons Richie couldn’t begin to understand. He didn’t seem to give an answer right away, shifting away from Richie a little as he thought it over. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Richie added. “It was just a thought…” 

“Would it be okay?” 

That question surprised Richie a little. “Of course it’d be okay, Eds… There’s nothing… There’s nothing wrong with what we’ve been doing.” It was spoken like a promise. But it worked. Eddie was convinced. His gaze softening as he nodded. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll move in here.” 

Later that night, Richie treated Eddie to their first move towards sex in celebration. Wrapping him up in the wet heat of his mouth, a pleasure Eddie cited having never experienced before. Richie was glad to be his first.

* * *

**June 29th, 2007 - The back of a Taxi - New York City, New York**

He was on his way home from work when Sophie called him. It wasn’t uncommon for the pair to talk, so Richie didn’t think too much about it when he answered the phone with a “Hello!” 

“Hey, Richie!” She greeted brightly. “Guess what - no, I don’t wanna wait. We picked a date! We booked a venue!” Sophie declared brightly, and Richie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. 

“Yeah? When will it be, Future Mrs Tozier?” 

“March 18th, 2008.” She spoke proudly, and a slight smile spread on Richie’s face.

“That’s great, Soph. God, I can’t fucking wait. This is going to be the best wedding in the whole damned world. Still hosting the party in Boston?” 

“Mhm. It’s gonna be at this gorgeous hotel… I’m trying to see if I can get Elton John to come and play it.” 

Richie snorted. “Oh, you _gotta._ If you’re lucky, you might even be able to get him for free, right? I mean, tell him you’re a pair of dykes and he’ll be paying for your wedding.” He joked with a shake of his head. The cab driver looked towards him with a small glare that Richie easily brushed off. 

“You know you might be right.” Sophie joked back on the other end. “I’ll have to really see what I can do about that.” She hummed. “So, do you think Eddie will be coming with you?” 

The question was expected. “Well, maybe… I mean we’re… We’re officially living together. And we’re definitely dating. We did that kinda backwards, didn’t we?” Richie ran a hand through his hair. “I sure as fuck hope we’re still together by March, but alas, only time will tell.” There was an apprehension in his voice. Richie holding himself back from imagining a future from beyond tomorrow. 

“Rich?” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s not about Isabella, is it?” 

Of course it was - Isabella was always going to be a pesky part of his life that Richie wanted to ignore. She had hurt him. She had damn near broken him. Until Eddie came into his life again, Richie hadn’t wanted to commit himself to anyone else after that. But Eddie slipped into his life all too easily and made his head swim and his heart soar. He’d have been an idiot to let him go. 

But he’d also be an idiot if he didn’t prepare for everything to implode. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Sophie.” 

There was silence on the other end, before a small sigh escaped her. “You don’t have to talk to me, Richie… But you should talk to Eddie. He deserves to know.” 

“I know.”

But he was scared - and no amount of _I know’s_ would lead to him surmounting that fear.

* * *

**June 29th, 2007 - Eddie Kaspbrak’s former Apartment - New York City, New York**

Eddie had wanted to keep the place in his name. He thought some extra income wouldn’t hurt and thought he might want to rent it out to someone else. So, with the place cleared out of his personal belongings and plastic covering the floor, Eddie worked on painting the apartment to bare white. Permission would be given to whoever moved in to paint it whatever they wanted - but at least a neutral colour. Richie had let himself in, looking at Eddie in his painting clothes (old sweatpants and a loose fitting tank top) and letting out a low whistle. 

“How is it you look sexy in absolutely everything?” Richie asked over the noise of the stereo. 

“And in nothing?” Eddie asked him with a playful grin. Richie let out a bark of a laugh. 

“Oh, absolutely nothing too, Eds.” He winked, taking off his shoes and stepping over to take up a roller himself, putting it into the paint and starting to help Eddie. He stood on his toes, painting up to the ceiling where Eddie couldn’t quite reach with ease. 

“Thanks, Rich.” 

“Anytime, my love.” A comfortable silence filled the air for a moment. “Sophie and Ronnie picked a date.” 

“Oh? That’s so awesome!” Eddie beamed. “When is it?” 

“March 18th. Down in Boston.” Richie answers. The conversation feeling like nothing but casual until a question that Richie should’ve seen coming was posed. 

“Am I invited?” 

It was tentative, and the nervousness and awkwardness Eddie must’ve felt in asking it was palpable. Richie’s hand stilled for a moment. 

“Of course you are, Eds. Sophie and Ronnie love you.” Just as Eddie’s awkwardness was obvious, so was Richie’s. “Of course you’ll be coming.” 

It didn’t go unnoticed. The look that Eddie gave Richie made his heart drop down into his stomach. He hated how nervous the future made him. 

“Do you think we won’t be together come March?” 

He was serious, and Richie despised that seriousness. Couldn’t they just take this all one day at a time? Couldn’t he not fall too seriously into this? If it wasn’t too serious, than Eddie couldn’t hurt him, right? If he knew tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed if it didn’t come, he wouldn’t be upset by it. 

“I don’t know.” Richie shrugged. “We might be. We might not be. We might not even be together tomorrow.” 

“Yeah. We might not.” Eddie was annoyed, and Richie didn’t want that. 

“Eds-” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“-That’s not what I meant. I just… I meant the future is the future, you know? Who knows what’s going to happen? It’s not that I want us to break up, I don’t! But I’m just… I’m being realistic. We don’t know what’s going to happen next with us. We’ll _probably_ be together. But that doesn’t guarantee we will. I don’t wanna lie to you.” 

Richie was certain that Eddie would understand. But instead - “Yeah. Guess we probably will, right? Is that the way you’re looking at this, Richie? I’m turning my life around because I want to be with you. Because I’m going to do my fucking best to make this work - but you just want life to carry you. You’re not commiting. You’re not going to put in the effort.” 

“I didn’t _say that._ ” 

Eddie put his roller down, seeming to give up on the painting at the moment. “But you did, Richie! Saying that we might not be together… You’re saying you’re not going to try. That you don’t see that future for us. That in _less than a year _you still can’t see us together. What the fuck am I even doing with you if you can’t even imagine us together a year ahead?”__

Richie put his roller down too, his hands flying up into his hair to tug at it as he tried to think. Eddie was right - he couldn’t see it. So what was the point? He wanted it! He absolutely wanted it - but he couldn’t allow himself to picture it. 

“I don’t know, Eddie.” Richie concluded. “All I know is that I want to be with you right now.” 

“But maybe not tomorrow? Maybe not next week? Is this really all just temporary for you… Fuck, was this _always_ temporary for you? Even back when we were kids?” 

“No! No, no not then… Not then - Back then I really… I thought we would be in love until the day we died.” 

“And we aren’t in love?”

“No, we are, Eddie. I just-”

“You just can’t see a future for us?” 

It wasn’t the best answer, and Richie knew that. But he nodded because it was true. He couldn’t. He couldn’t really, even though he logically knew this wouldn’t be like his previous marriage, he knew that he trusted Eddie, that he loved him. And yet… He could rationalize it all he wanted, and sometimes, it would work, but he couldn’t bring himself to see them together beyond a couple more weeks. 

“Get out of here, Richie.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me, Richie. Can you just go?” 

There was an unmistakable sound of pain in Eddie’s voice. But, Richie nodded, stepping past him and aiming a kiss towards his cheek. Eddie initially moved away, before stilling and allowing Richie to complete the action. How Richie hoped that wouldn’t be their last kiss. He pulled his shoes on. 

“Hey, Eds?” 

No answer. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I like the white… Looks, uh… Clean.” 

“Just go, Richie.” 

“Okay.” 

And he did.

* * *

It was the worst night Richie had had in recent memory. 

He didn’t cry, he didn’t scream - not that he didn’t want to. He just didn’t feel like he deserved to. He was the wrong who was wrong. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault that Richie had these emotional hang ups that ostracized him. He hated that he couldn’t find it in him to trust Eddie completely, but he couldn’t. He had trusted Isabella and look where that got him. 

Richie couldn’t stomach the painful thought. 

He laid back in bed, on the side that had become _his_ and now without the familiar weight and warmth of Eddie beside him. He closed his eyes.

* * *

**June 29th, 1991 - Richie Tozier’s Bedroom - Derry, Maine**

The familiar weight and warmth of Eddie was laying in the bed next to him, Richie’s arm wrapped around his shoulders as they both stared up towards the ceiling. Eddie’s head was resting on his chest, his hand sliding up and down Richie’s side. The silence surrounding them was calm. Richie closed his eyes, soaking up the feeling of Eddie pressed to his side. 

“I think I love you.” 

“Well, I’d sure fuckin’ hope so after knowing me for how long?” Richie cracked a grin. He knew that wasn’t what Eddie had meant at all - but he never did the mushy stuff very well. 

“Oh shut up asshole. You know what I mean.” Richie could imagine Eddie was blushing from the way that he pressed his face into Richie’s chest, trying to hide himself from his chest. “I _love_ you, Richie.” The emphasis brought a matching blush up onto Richie’s cheeks. 

“I love you too, Eds. Always have. Always will.” 

Eddie smiled against Richie’s chest, tilting his head up to press light kisses onto his jaw. “I can already see our future, Eddie.” Richie cooed. “I can see it now.. Our names in lights. Richie and Eddie Tozier.” 

“I’m a Tozier?” 

“Well, Richie Kaspbrak doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, does it?” 

Eddie laughed a little, his lips meeting Richie’s in a sweet kiss. “So, we’re gonna get married somehow, then? Or do I just change my name for the hell of it.” 

“Oh, no, we’re getting married for sure. We’ll take it to the President himself if we have to, my love. If I can’t put a ring on that pretty little finger because it belongs to a guy, President Patrick Swayze is going to hear about it from me personally. And I’m very hard to say no to.” 

“You are. That _is_ the only reason we’re dating in the first place.” Eddie snorted. 

“See! And that means there’s going to be no way you’re going to reject my proposal. I bet I could get on my knee right now and give you a Ring Pop and you’d still say yes, you little sap.” 

“Oh shut up! I would not!” 

“Oh? Shall I prove this theory?” Richie detangled himself from Eddie, and slipped onto the floor. Unfortunately, Richie lacked a Ring Pop to present him, but he did notice a little twist tie on the floor. It had been from a baggie of candy Stan had gifted him for winning a bet that Richie could no longer remember. Quickly, he fashioned it into something about the size of a ring. “Oh, my most darling Eddie Spaghetti. Would you give me the honor of getting to admire that sweet, tight lil ass for the rest of my life, until death do us part?” 

Eddie was laughing all the while, shaking his head. “Nope! But I’ll take that ring. Looks expensive.” Eddie joked, offering his hand out. Richie immediately worked it onto his finger. “And this isn’t a yes. This is just me indulging your stupidity.” 

“Sounds like a yes to me, Eds.” 

“Fuck off, ass.” 

The insult only made Richie grin as he hopped to his feet, pressing Eddie back down into his bed, his fingers linking with Eddie’s as he brought their lips together, indulging in the taste of his boyfriends mouth until he had to go home.

* * *

Richie woke up, the memory slowly starting to slip from his mind. He rubbed his eyes, and reached to pull his glasses on. He knew what he wanted to do - even if it scared him. 

Richie pulled himself out of bed, and spent the next twenty minutes scavenging his apartment, until he finally found what he wanted. A twist tie - worn out and green, but it was perfect. Grinning to himself, he carefully molded it into the shape of a ring and kept it tight in his hand. He checked the time - 2:34am - and yet, he still headed out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has been a long time coming, I know! And I apologize for how long it took me to get out. Initially this chapter (and the course of the fic) was going to be something completely different but unfortunately I couldn't get my ideas to work the way I had intended to. So, I have to switch gears and rework how I wanted this fic to end. That being said - _there will be a sequel fic!!!_ The sequel will probably be shorter, I'm estimating maybe about... 10 chapters or less? I'm not 100% sure at the moment but I think I might try to finish that in it's entirety before I publish it. 
> 
> But anyways, thank you so much for the patience on this chapter. I know it's not very long, but I hope you enjoyed reading it nonetheless <3 Thank you!


	13. step eleven: love

**June 30th, 2007 - Eddie Kaspbrak's Apartment - New York City, New York**

Perhaps it was crazy of him - but Richie still found himself standing in front of Eddie's apartment in the middle of the night with a twist tie ring pressing into his palm. It was probably stupid and impulsive - but when had Richie been anything but? He raised up his other hand and knocked. 

Two minutes later, there was still no sounds on the other side of the door. So, Richie knocked again, a little bit harder. And again - nothing. He started to pound on the door as hard as he could. In fact, he almost knocked Eddie right in the forehead when the door swung open and he was faced with the very tired and very angry looking Eddie.

"What the fuck do you want, asshole?"

Well, that wasn't the expected reaction - even if it should've been. Richie did just drag him out of bed in the middle of the night. He dropped down onto his knee, presenting the small ring. "I want to be with you, Eddie... I... I have my hang-ups, but I don't want to lose you over this." 

Eddie stared down at him, and Richie wanted to read what he was thinking - but there was nothing there for him to make out. Just a tired, neutral expression. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he brought a smile up onto his lips as he tried to make this work.

"Are you fucking with me, Richie?" He asked him incredulously. Richie went to answer _no! of course not, Eds! why would i joke about this?_ but Eddie continued on before Richie could get the words in. "You... You tell me you don't see us having a future together, and then you come here with a plastic ring in the middle of the night and tell me you don't want to lose me. You don't even take back what you said!" 

That wasn't the reaction Richie had been hoping for. His heart dropped to his stomach. "I... I just wanted to fix things, Eddie."

"You can't just put a band-aid on this, Richie. I need to know that you're serious about us."

"I am serious!"

"But you can't see us together?" 

"I wish I could." Richie pleaded. He stood up slowly, the ring slipping out of his hand to drop onto the floor. "I... I'm sorry, Eddie. I want us to have that future but I'm... I'm _scared._ " He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm scared that I'm going to dream up this future and it's not going to come true. If I take this one day at a time, I can't have my heart broken."

There was a moment where Eddie's face softened, and Richie held a sliver of hope. That maybe this might be fixed.

"You need to figure that out, Richie... You need to let yourself love someone. You can't... That's not fair to me. To be invested in you and not have you feel the same... You can't have me waiting on you, trying to fix you. That's not right, Richie." 

Richie's face fell. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses as he nodded. It was a crushing weight on his shoulders - but he nodded. "Yeah... Yeah, you're right." Richie conceded. "I'm sorry, Eddie. That was really stupid of me. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't." 

"Yeah, I wasn't. I'm sorry." 

Eddie sighed a little, opening the door a little wider and stepping out of the way. "Get in here, idiot. You're gonna get yourself killed if you try to get back home tonight." He ushered Richie in. "You can sleep on the couch here," Eddie told him. 

Richie let himself be pulled inside, not thinking too much about it at the moment. It was like he was on auto-pilot, blindly letting himself be lead into the near-empty apartment. He dropped himself onto the couch, pulling the thin blanket over him. "Is that enough or do you want another?" Eddie asked him in a softer tone. Richie shook his head. "Alright." Eddie sighed a little. "I... Sleep well, Rich."

"I'll try." Richie stretched out, his feet going over the armrest. Eddie stood there for a moment, watching him like he wanted to say something before he headed off.

"Eds?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He didn't feel like he had the right to say it, but he wanted to make sure Eddie knew it anyways. He deserved to know that Richie loved him.

"I know."

An ironic bark of laughter escaped Richie, and he could practically hear Eddie smiling. "Alright, Han Solo." He snickered a little - it wasn't the most joyful laughter, but it had cut the tension, and Richie was relieved for that fact.

"I love you too, dumbass."

And Richie was content with that assurance. Eddie still loved him - that meant Richie could still fix this for them.

* * *

**July 2nd, 2007 - Eddie Kaspbrak's Car - New York City, New York**

It had been a wild couple of days for Eddie.

Richie breaking his heart at some point or another should've been expected, but Eddie didn't think it would come so soon. He thought they'd be able to fall into old habits and embrace them for at least a few more weeks before Richie couldn't handle the commitment any longer... But God, he couldn't even _pretend like they had a future together? Eddie was hurt. Offended, even. He threw his whole life away for Richie. (Well, okay, not _just__ for Richie. He couldn't stay with Myra forever. This was done for him too.) And yet... Richie was ready to throw all the years they should have together away?

Deep down, Eddie knew it wasn't that simple. Richie would never be that simple, he never had been. But it was easier to be mad and think of it in the simplest of terms instead of letting Richie get deep into his head and having to consider the reality of this all - real relationships were messy. Adult relationships were messy. And Eddie would just have to get used to not having a picture-perfect magical relationship. (As if he had ever had something like that. Please.)

He sighed, staring down at the radio in the car, switching the station. He was barely paying attention to the music anyways - it was only noise to occupy the space and so he wouldn't look so odd when his client eventually popped in. Today, he was driving around Audra Phillips - Bill Denbrough's wife. He was almost 100% positive that she didn't know Eddie knew Bill, but maybe it was better that way. He didn't want to answer any sort of questions... Especially not ones about Bill.

When he saw the flash of red hair come out of the building, Eddie got out. There was a familiar flash of cameras all trying to snap pictures of Audra. Eddie did the best he could to try and shield her from them as he lead her to the car and opened the door for her. He quickly ran around to his side, starting it up and pulling away from the road. 

"Sorry about that, Mrs. Philips." Eddie sighed. "They get more and more annoying every day." 

"It's like they don't have any boundaries." Audra agreed with a nod, letting out a sigh as she settled into the backseat. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." 

Eddie shook his head, glancing up at Audra in his mirror. "No, no, it wasn't too long. Besides. I'm paid by the hour. You could've sat in there all day for all I care." Eddie assured her with a small laugh. Audra laughed too - and that made Eddie feel better.

"Maybe it's not my business," Audra started - and Eddie was already intrigued. "But... Are you alright? You seem upset about something." 

Eddie didn't know what would give her that idea - but a glance at himself in his side mirror told him enough. A frown seemed to be naturally resting on his lips, there were bags under his eyes, and his blonde hair seemed to wash him out even more than usual. Eddie really wasn't looking his best. "There's... Trouble in paradise, let's say." Eddie decided - careful not to disclose his sexuality. "We're working through it." 

Audra seemed to nod knowingly. "There's ups and downs in every relationship... It's even happened with me and Bill." Eddie's lips twitched - he didn't know if it was to smile at the mention of Bill's name or to frown further at knowing he wasn't as happy as Eddie would've liked to think. "But you'll always get through these things. I'm sure whatever is going on with you and her you'll be able to work through. If you really love each other, nothing can keep you apart."

Maybe that did make Eddie feel a little bit better. 

"I do love... Her." Eddie sighed heavily. "But... She uh, she doesn't really think we have a future together? Or, she does... She wants to, but she can't see it? She has her own problems, I guess. Her ex... Husband cheated on her. So she has a hard time trusting each other but... We dated as teenagers and I loved her then and she loved me but we moved apart and we only just reconnected and maybe it's crazy that we fell in love so quickly again but I want her. She's the only one I've ever wanted to be with and I thought she wanted me too but I don't know if I'm just some sort of impulse for her. I don't know if she just wants me because she's remembering how she loved me back then, not because she really loves me now."

Audra listened to him - really listened. And somehow, Audra felt better to speak to than his therapist. Maybe because he wouldn't have to face Audra again. Maybe because she didn't know who he was, and she didn't know who Richie was, and Eddie could just _talk_ and it would never have to be brought up ever again. 

"She sounds like she's dealing with a lot," Audra noted, and Eddie nodded in agreement. 

"I want to be there for her. I want us to deal with this... But I'm scared too. I gave up a lot to be with her now. It was a huge step for me and I'm worried that she's going to move on from me and realize she doesn't love me anymore. Or that she can't let herself love anyone completely. And I don't want to face that… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with this... You’re my client I… I should stop. I’m sorry.” Sure, he knew who Audra was. But to her, he was just a face in the crowd. 

Audra was silent for a moment. "No, don’t be sorry at all. I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want to hear.” Another pause. “Love is scary." She spoke - and Eddie had to hold himself back from laughing. Yeah, it was fucking scary. And yeah, maybe looking at Bill's bald fucking head was scary but did it really compare to the sort of fears that he was facing? "But sometimes, you have to deal with that. Yes, she might give up on you... She might back out... But would you prefer to have tried to leave her in the dust?"

Eddie didn't like that she was right. He couldn't just leave Richie behind without at least giving him the chance to try again. 

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost her." 

"You'll figure it out if - _if_ you get there." Audra affirmed to him, reaching forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Eddie appreciated it and glanced over towards her in the mirror with a small smile. "You'll figure it out. With or without her. Don't give up on loving her because you're scared of a what if. If everyone bought into their what-ifs no one would do anything, right?" Audra asked him. 

"I guess you're right." 

He pulled up to her stop - a large gleaming hotel. He got out of the car to open the door and offer his arm to help her out. Again, there was the flash of paparazzi and Eddie did his best to cover her as he lead her up towards the front doors. "Thank you, Audra. It means a lot. I'll talk her tonight." 

Audra beamed towards him, giving him a squeeze on his arm. "Good luck! You'll have to tell me how it goes!" She requested - and only when Eddie promised her that, did Audra part from his side and into the building. Eddie got into his car and headed back to the lot to sign out of his shift for the evening feeling a lot better.

* * *

Eddie, after signing off from work, headed back to his old apartment to get himself changed and showered. He took his time in getting himself dressed - a nicely pressed dress shirt (technically one of the ones he wore for work, but it would fit his planned occasion) and a pair of dark jeans that could _almost_ pass for dress pants. Then, he ordered a pizza.

While waiting a few minutes he took the time to blow dry his hair and style it - finally taking a moment to clean his glasses and slip them back onto his face before heading out. He stopped to pick out a nice bottle of red wine - about the most expensive bottle he could afford - finally before picking up his pizza. From there, he was just a block away from Richie's Records. He made sure to peer into the shop first, making sure Richie wasn't in sight before stepping inside. He gave a grin to Nat who perked up in interest when she saw him walk in. He headed right for the stairs to Richie's apartment.

"What's up, Aly?" Richie asked, just before he opened the door. Evidently, he wasn't expecting to see Eddie on the other side. Especially not holding a bottle of wine and a box of pizza.

"Surprise."

"What are you doing here, Eds?" Richie ran a hand through his hair, looking at Eddie in utter bewilderment. Judging by the sweatpants and a ratty tank top, Richie hadn't been expecting guests.

"I wanted to have dinner with you." He said plainly. "And I'm going to assume Aly is an employee and not a hot date you have?"

"Well, she can be both if she wants." Richie joked nervously, stepping aside to let Eddie in. He shut the door behind him. "Should I go get changed or...?"

"No, stay like that. Makes me feel better about myself." Eddie commented with a slight smirk. Richie returned it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was worried, and Eddie didn't blame him. Their last conversation was the night Richie came to his apartment. Richie was gone by the time Eddie woke up, and neither had made the leap to contact each other first. 

Eddie put the box and bottle down on the table and went to help himself to get plates and glasses together. "I figured we should get back into the swing of things, you know?" Eddie asked. "We do have that wedding to go to, and I would hate to disappoint Ronnie and Sophie by not showing up."

Richie blinked, still trying to process this all. "Right." He nodded, slowly moving to sit down. Eddie presented him with a plate and glass, and Richie set to opening up the bottle of wine first and pouring out a glass for each of them before he went for the pizza (pepperoni, jalapenos, and black olives.) and loaded his plate with a couple of slices. "Uh, cheers." He lifted his glass, letting Eddie click theirs together before taking a sip. 

"How have you been?" Eddie broke the brief silence that took over while they had started in on their respective slices. 

"I've been alright... We're uh, we're getting real close to starting up the next season of SNL. Uh, LeBron James is supposed to host the first episode. But don't tell anyone I told you that, it's like, some big secret." Richie laughed a little to himself - still not completely at ease. But Eddie would get him there. Eddie would make him know that they were okay. 

"Yeah? How're you going to deal with someone out there being taller than you?" Eddie asked him with a teasing grin. The laugh that followed from Richie seemed to be more genuine.

"Well, if I just keep kicking him in the shins hopefully it'll be alright." He snickered and gained a laugh from Eddie. Richie's eyes lit up, and Eddie felt his heart soaring. He loved seeing that look on Richie's face - he got it whenever he made anybody laugh. It was one of the things Eddie loved most about him.

"I would _pay_ to see you kick LeBron James in the shins." Eddie snorted, shaking his head in amusement at the very idea. "I'm serious. It would be prime comedy. Maybe make that into a sketch with him, yeah? But only if you get to star in it. Oh! Or Bill Hader. God, he'd be so good at that." Eddie hummed.

"Should I be giving Billy boy your number, Eds?" Richie asked him, a leering smile that definitely didn't meet his eyes. Eddie felt his heart swell a little.

"Nah, I got my eyes on someone else."

"Yeah?" The hopefulness in Richie's voice surprised him. "Who might that lucky guy be?"

"I don't know if I'd call him lucky," Eddie noted, taking a bite and chewing it before continuing. "I know I can be a bit of a crazy pain in the ass but... It's pretty lucky that he seemed to like me still despite all of that. But... I was pretty harsh to him when I shouldn't have been. But I was scared and I lashed out... Which wasn't fair, because he's scared too. I think I want to be scared with him. If he still wants me."

"He'd be an idiot to not want you, Eddie."

Eddie smiled slightly. "He's an idiot whether or not he wants me."

"Yeah, yeah you're right. He's a big dumbass." Richie laughed a little, shaking his head. "He... I love you, Eddie. I'm sorry the future is empty for me. But that's just for right now. That's just until I figure me out, yeah? If there is anyone I can make the distance with, it'll be you."

"I love you too, Richie. And I... I hate that I'm scared of you leaving me. I'm worried you won't be able to trust me because of what happened with Isabelle... But... But I want to try. I want to try because I love you, and being with you, for now, is worth the chance of getting hurt."

Richie reached across the table to hold Eddie's hand, which Eddie gladly gave him. They squeezed each other's hands, sharing a soft smile. "Are you busy tonight?" Eddie asked.

"Schedules open," Richie asked, tilting his head. "Why? What did you have planned?"

"I... I wanted to... I wanted to uh." His cheeks flared up a dark red - and he was positive Richie knew what he meant, but there was no way he was going to admit to it. A small smirk spread across Richie's face.

"Yeah, Eds?"

"I wanna-" He huffed. God, it felt so stupid saying it. "I wanna have sex with you."

Richie's jaw dropped and he widened his eyes dramatically. "S-Sex?" He asked, whispering the word as though it was a crime to say it. "Why, Edward! How could you suggest something so scandalous! I am a _man,_ Edward! And so are you - why - how would we even?" Richie asked him, the voice of some Victorian British Man being the one to fall past his lips. It was stupid, and yet, Eddie laughed, giving Richie a light kick to the shin under the table.

"Oh fuck off, asshole." He let out another laugh, trying to hide them unsuccessfully behind his hand. "You know how to have sex with a guy better than I do. Unless the pornos are accurate."

"Not entirely, my love," Richie brought his voice back to normal. "But it would be my absolute pleasure to teach you how to get such a pleasure." He cooed affectionately. "But, you have to wait 20 minutes after eating or else you'll get a cramp."

"Pretty sure that's swimming, Rich."

"Swimming. Sexing. All about the same thing, right? Either way, you wiggle around, get wet, and sometimes you swallow and choke."

"Oh my _god_ you make it sound so gross!" Eddie wrinkled his nose, coughing a little on the wine he had been trying to drink when Richie made the joke.

"Well, it's not so cut and dry, Eds. There are some technicalities that aren't so nice." Richie shrugged. "Do you want to pitch or catch?" Eddie didn't seem to understand the metaphor, and Richie sighed dramatically. "Do you want me to fuck you, or do you want to fuck me?"

"Oh!" The flush remained on Eddie's cheeks. "I... I want you to... Me..." He explained vaguely, nervously. Richie frowned a little. Pizza was briefly forgotten as he reached across the table to take both of Eddie's hands.

"Eds, I know you're nervous... It's... It's a whole new thing for you. And if you're not ready for it yet, that's okay. We can do something else - or we don't have to do anything. There's no rush to do anything right now, okay? I'm just glad to have you home."

Eddie's face softened, and he squeezed Richie's hands. "That... That's really sweet Richie, and that means a lot. But I want to do this. I mean it. I promise. I've wanted you for _so long._ I'm ready to finally really do it. I trust you."

Richie nodded, letting go of his hands to go back to eating. "So uh... Have you cleaned yourself out down there?" He asked. "We talked about that, right?"

"A little." Eddie rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I can... I can do that here, right?" Eddie asked him. Richie nodded.

"Yeah. I got some like, wipes and shit. Just uh... Don't freak out or something if I pull out and it's not... Completely clean." He explained vaguely. 

God, the thought of it made Eddie cringe. Why did sex have to be so uncomfortable? He rubbed his face nervously, before trying to focus on eating. He'd probably feel less anxious if he actually had some food in him, right? And then a glass of wine to help soothe him. He switched to sipping on his glass. "Okay... That's... That's okay. You'll wear a condom and it won't be that weird, right?"

"Right. Of course, Eddie." Richie assured him. "I promise, it's going to be okay... And I promise, you're going to feel so good, Eds. There's no point if you don't feel good."

He was right - and Richie's confidence (possibly fabricated - but Eddie didn't think about that) made him feel better. And after they finished eating and curled up comfortably together on the couch to watch Friends and fall back into the routine, Eddie let himself relax - which was what he needed. Richie didn't pressure him further, letting Eddie press to his side, his head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around Eddie's shoulders.

About three episodes in, Eddie finally pulled away from Richie's side and pressed a kiss onto his cheek. "I'm going to get cleaned up," Eddie told him. 

"Oh, oh okay." Richie nodded. "Uh, there's wipes just under the sink. There's also Lysol wipes but maybe you shouldn't use those on your ass. I've tried and it burns." Eddie couldn't tell if he was joking - and frankly, he wasn't sure he if wanted to know. So, he merely nodded and slipped off into the bathroom.

Cleaning up was easy, at least. Eddie definitely ran through more wipes than he should've - but it was better to be safe instead of sorry, right? Eddie soon found himself peering out of the room. "I... I'm ready." He told Richie, clearing his throat and holding his head up high as he stepped towards Richie who was already rising to his feet. Eddie met him halfway, wrapping his arms around Richie's shoulders to kiss him. 

It started off light and familiar. Richie's hands large and hot on his hips, his lips moving perfectly against Eddie's and slowly, they'd lean into each other more, bodies pressed together with heat pulsing between them. Eddie tangled his hand into Richie's hair giving a light tug that he knew Richie loved. He was met with a groan in response, and then Richie was pressing his tongue into his mouth. Eddie easily welcomed it, moaning back into his mouth as Richie's hot tongue slotted against his. 

Richie was backing him up without their lips leaving each other. The bedroom door was thankfully open, making the journey to Richie's bed all the easier. When Eddie's knees hit the bed and he fell back, it was the first time he caught his breath.

"Still good?" Richie asked. Eddie nodded breathlessly, and in a moment, Richie was leaning over him. His hands planted on either side of Eddie's head as he leaned down to catch his lips in a hard kiss again. Eddie hooked his legs around Richie's waist, grinding their hips together which earned him a loud moan from the man on top of him.

Richie's hands soon moved back to Eddie's hips, sliding under his shirt and moving to start to pull it off. "Richie-" Eddie let out a small laugh as he pulled away from Richie. "Dumbass, it has buttons." 

Richie blinked, taking in the sight of the buttons indeed leading up Eddie's chest. He chuckled in spite of himself, moving to unbutton them instead. "Sorry. Got a little eager, Eds." He hummed, pressing kisses onto Eddie's neck as he pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, Eddie moving to sit up a little so he could properly take it off. He also took the opportunity to move back, properly settling onto the bed. Richie was quick to follow him, attacking Eddie's kiss with kisses and scrapes of his teeth that sent his head reeling. 

"Hey, hey..." He tugged on Richie's shirt. "Take it off." He whined a little. Richie held his hips instead, squeezing as he sucked a hickey onto his chest, causing Eddie to shudder, before pulling off with a pop to take his shirt off.

"Happy?" He teased. Eddie ran his hands up Richie's chest, smoothing his fingers over the coarse hair that covered the top of his chest, and ran one finger down to the dark trail that disappeared into his sweatpants.

"Yeah. Really happy." Eddie grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips again, before trailing heavy kisses along Richie's neck and towards his chest - sucking a mark to mirror the one Richie had left on him. Richie ran a hand through Eddie's hair, rolling their hips together roughly. Eddie let out a gasp, pressing up into Richie eagerly.

Richie guided Eddie to lay down gently, pressing a softer kiss to his lips, their hips still moving together, building up the friction and tension until Richie finally brought his hands to Eddie's pants, unbuttoning them, but stopping before pulling them off.

"You ready, Eds?"

"I'm ready."

He kissed his lips again, and Richie finally started to remove the last layers between them.

* * *

**September 21st, 2008 - Sunset Tower Hotel - Los Angeles, California**

"Richie, are you sure about this?" Eddie had asked him for what must've been the dozenth time since they had even come out to LA for the 60th annual Emmy's. It was the first year Richie had actually been invited to attend, and he would've been damned if he didn't have Eddie right there by his side. 

He was actually up for an Emmy this year, as part of the writing staff on Saturday Night Live - the whole crew was nominated for _Outstanding Writing for a Variety, Music, or Comedy Program_ and Richie was incredibly proud - and absolutely certain they were going to win.

"Yes, Eddie, for the millionth time, if I'm going to sit in that huge theater for hours and listen to boring speeches and people praising shows I've never seen, I wanna do it with you sitting next to me. Besides - you look _so sexy_ right now. We should wear tuxes all the time." Richie grinned, giving Eddie a little squeeze on the ass. Eddie laughed, pushing his hand away.

"Do you think we'll get to sit by anyone cool?"

"I mean, I think the whole crew is pretty damned cool." Richie argued. "And besides, you're going to be sitting beside the coolest guy in the whole joint, baby." Richie slung his arm over Eddie's shoulder, watching as he tried to tie and re-tie his tie for the fifth time. "Need some help, baby?" He asked, brushing his lips against his boyfriends jaw.

"I'm fine, but thanks." Eddie seemed content with the tie he had made for himself at last, tightening it up and straightening it out under his collar. "And you really think you're the coolest guy in there? Isn't like... Alec Baldwin gonna be there? Steve Carell? Tina Fey? Oh! And _Bryan Cranston!_ You can't tell me you really think you're cooler than Bryan Cranston?"

"Well, I did until just now." Richie pouted, pulling Eddie in close to his chest. "Should I hook you up with him instead, since you just _looooove_ Bryan Cranston so much?"

"Yeah, maybe you should actually." Eddie retorted, poking his tongue out at Richie in the mirror. "He makes more money you know." He tried to maintain a seriousness in his voice, as though that were actually something he was considering, but it didn't match the broad grin that had come to spread across his face.

"Oh? I'm not making enough money for you Mr President Driver Man." Richie pressed a wet kiss onto his cheek. "I thought you liked being the breadwinner in this relationship." It was true, Eddie had worked his way up through the driving company and had found himself as acting president. He didn't drive as much these days, but he took jobs where he could purely because he enjoyed it. He and Richie no longer lived above the record store (although Richie still owned it.) Instead, they lived about a block away in a nicer apartment that had more than one bedroom. The unit above the shop now served as an office for the record store, which was going to open a second location in the city in a couple of weeks. Finally, the business was starting to expand.

"I do." Eddie argued, leaning back into Richie's chest and sighing comfortably in his boyfriends warm embrace. "But I wouldn't say no to Bryan Cranston's pay check."

Richie chuckled warmly against his neck, and Eddie let out a soft sigh, bringing up a hand to curl into Richie's hair. "Do we have to go?" Eddie asked. "Can we just stay here and make out in our sexy suits?"

Richie laughed again at that. "Oh, Eds, I wish it were that simple. When I win I need to be there on stage. I need to go up to the mic and talk about how in love I am with my beautiful boyfriend." Richie explained, with that being his only justification for having to go. "And then we have to go and get gorgeously drunk at the after party, and we'll say we're gonna go back to the hotel and fuck but we both know we're gonna hit the sheets and pass out... But then we get to have loving romantic hungover morning sex."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at the elaborate plan. "So you're a fortune teller now, huh?" He turned in his arms, meeting his lips in a lingering kiss, one that seemed to suck the breath out of both of their lungs. "I love you." Eddie breathed out against his mouth.

"I love you too, Eds."

Richie stepped back, reaching into his pocket for a moment, a nervous smile filtering across his face. "Can you close your eyes for a sec?" Richie asked.

Eddie arched a brow, evidently confused, but he nodded. Complying by closing his eyes and unbeknownst to him, Richie was lowering himself down onto one knee. A fist held in front of him, concealing something.

"Open your eyes."

Eddie hadn't expected it, but when he saw it before his eyes, he knew exactly what was happening. It took all that he had inside of him to not shout out _Yes!_ before Richie had even said anything. "Rich..."

"I know, I know. Just... Give me a second." Richie took in a breath. "We... We had a rough start to all of this." Richie began. "I don't mean the real start way back in the fuckin' nineties. I mean the start we had now... With Myra, your mother, and me... And I'll never stop being sorry for the hurt I caused you back then. But now, Eds, you are my whole future. When I close my eyes and picture myself tomorrow, a week from now, and a year from now... You're always right there by my side. I know... I know I can trust you. I know I'm not going to lose you and... I don't know why I even doubted it in the first place." Richie let out a little laugh. "I promised you once that I was going to marry you, and I'm a man of my word. So... Please, Eds, help me keep up that promise and say-"

"Yes! Yes, you fucking idiot." There were tears brimming in Eddie's eyes, but he refused to let them slip. Richie opened his palm, and there, was a twist tie fashioned into a ring. Eddie let out a bark of a laugh. "Oh you fucker." He accepted the twist tie anyways - Richie having to pull it apart and wrap it around Eddie's finger to make it stick.

"There is a real ring, by the way. But I think this is a lot more special." Richie told him with a grin. "Wear it for tonight?"

"Yeah... Sure, whatever." It was unlikely that the couple would be photographed a lot anyways - it wasn't like they were stars. "I'd wear anything you'd want me to." 

"Anything?" 

"Shut up."

Richie stood up, finally settling the makeshift ring around Eddie's finger and immediately wrapped him up in a bear hug. He lifted Eddie from his feet and swung him around. "Oh my beautiful Eds Tozier." He cooed affectionately, pressing kisses all over Eddie's face, who laughed and tried to push him away, only to press a determined kiss to his lips.

"So you don't wanna change your mind about staying here and-"

"Hey! Don't tempt me you little sex demon." Richie laughed, catching his fiance's lips in one last kiss. "C'mon, we've gotta get going."

He parted from Eddie to go and put his shoes on - and action which Eddie followed and soon, they were holding hands and heading to the door. “You ready to show off that ring?” Richie asked him with a wide grin. He brought Eddie’s knuckles to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss. 

“Course I am.” Eddie assured.

* * *

The night, and following morning, went exactly as Richie had predicted.

* * *

**December 24th, 2011 - Richie and Eddie’s Apartment - New York City, New York**

After over three years of engagement, they were finally ready to tie the knot. 

A few days after the proposal, Eddie and Richie had agreed that they’d wait until New York legalized same-sex marriage to get married, and god, was the wait ever agonizing. But finally, on July 24th of that year, the couple was able to start planning their wedding. 

Which really, didn’t take too long. They decided to keep it small - family and a couple of friends only, and held in their own apartment on Christmas Eve. It was a hassle, sure, trying to get all those people out there for the holidays - but they had a couple extra bedrooms and enough money to rent out hotels for the rest. 

The day had passed in a whirlwind, until they were walking up the aisle with their arms linked together. Wentworth at the other end beaming proudly at his son (and soon to be son-in-law.) 

It didn’t take much for Richie to start to tune out the voice of his dad addressing the room and instead focusing on Eddie, who seemed to be drinking in his every word. It was fuckin’ adorable. And Richie was thankful for it. Wentworth had apparently asked Eddie to deliver his vows first. He let go of Richie’s hand’s (and Richie immediately missed his touch) to get cue cards from his jacket pocket. Eddie cleared his throat, his eyes already a little watery.

“I love you.” Eddie started. “If that wasn’t already obvious.” There was a small chuckle from the ‘audience’, and Richie joined in. “I’m here because I love you… We’re all here because I love you and I think that’s fucking amazing.” Eddie flipped his cards, wiping his eye as subtle as he could. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and that definitely wasn’t helping him. “I’ve known you my whole life, Richie Tozier. And I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. Even if I didn’t know it yet. Even in the years we were apart, living radically different lives… I knew I loved you. And I knew I would _always_ love you. We’ve faced a lot together… More than I care to share here.” Richie wanted to believe it’s about the fight they had before they got back together. He really wants to believe that - but he knows it’s not. He knows they’re so far beyond that. But they will never be beyond IT. He smiles anyways. 

“But… Marriage isn’t about what you’ve faced in the past. It’s about what you’re going to face in the future. I don’t know what the road ahead holds for us.” They both knew one thing. “But I know what whatever it is, I want to do it with you.” Eddie flipped to another card, taking a moment to continue on. “I want to do everything I can with you. Wake up, brush our teeth, eat breakfast, text you while we’re working even though we absolutely shouldn’t be doing that, meet up for dinner, curl up in front of the couch watching old sitcom reruns and go to bed with you. I want to do that every day until we’re old and wrinkled and can’t even walk and we just lay in bed with our breathing tubes on our face and we bump them together in a failed attempt at kissing.” He gains another laugh, but Richie’s is the only one that doesn’t sound forced. “I promise, Richie… I… I’m not going to make some bullshit promises about laughing at your jokes or letting you fill the DVR with Jersey Shore ironically, especially because it’s not ironic. But I will promise that I will stand by your side through everything and anything. I promise that I’m-” He sniffled, the tears finally falling from his eyes. Eddie laughed in spite of himself. Richie couldn’t hold back anymore, he wiped Eddie’s tears from his cheeks (nevermind the ones staining his own cheeks.) 

“It’s okay, Eds. Keep sweet talking me, baby.” 

Eddie laughs and it’s beautiful. “I promise I’m going to make sure to tell you I love you every single day. Starting right now. I love you.” And with that, he tucks the cards back into his pocket, wiping his eyes properly now. “Your turn, asshole.” 

Ah, there’s his Eds. Richie grins impossibly wide. 

Richie didn’t produce a stack of cue cards, instead, he reached into his pocket to pull out a handful of confetti and toss it into the air with a bright grin. “Ta-da!” He bowed a little, before beginning to speak, taking Eddie’s hands in his again. “Edward Frank Kaspbrak,” He took a breath. “I racked my mind for _years_ thinking of what I would say when I came up here. I wrote and rewrote dozens of little speeches dedicated to you, but none of them ever felt quite right. So, I decided, I would come up here when the day came and tell you how I feel straight from the heart which is… Holy shit are you ever gorgeous. Seriously. The most handsome man I’ve ever been lucky enough to meet and you wanna _marry_ me? What fucking saintly thing did I do to get this fucking gift of karma, huh?” Richie laughed a little to himself, and it rubbed off quickly on Eddie. 

“You’re so stupid.” 

“Hey! No interrupting.” Richie countered, but he couldn’t help but let out another little chuckle. “Maybe I should’ve planned this out more. You’ve rendered me speechless… Wait, no, I can work with that. Eddie, you literally take the words out of my mouth. And as anyone who knows me can attest, that is no easy task. You just… You came into my life like a wrecking ball and tore me down only to build me up again into the best me I possibly could be - and every single day, you make me better. You make me smarter. You make me funnier. You make me work harder and dream bigger and smile a little brighter. You helped me find a future for myself and you were so patient in teaching me how to love again, and still teaching me how to love every single day of our lives. Our lives - together, now and forever. You’re my soulmate, Eds.” 

“You know I hate it when you-” 

“What did I say about interrupting?” They both laughed, foreheads knocking softly together, crowding into each other's space. It wasn’t conventional for a wedding - but neither of them had planned on anything different. “You’re my soulmate, _Eds._ I know it’s cliche, but I believe it… I really do. We were made for each other and we’re gonna keep growing and we’re going to keep changing but we’re going to grow and change together until we meld into one unit together. One monster blob of a man, and it’ll be so sexy. Like we’re constantly fu-”

“God, no, don’t say it.” Eddie laughed, bringing up his hand to cover Richie’s mouth. He was still crying, and he was definitely laughing. It was the exact reaction Richie had wanted. As was the gasp and the frantic wiping across Richie’s chest when Richie licked his hand - wet and slobbery. 

“You’re marrying me and you can’t even handle my spit?” Richie asked. 

“Oh, beep beep.” 

The light in Eddie’s eyes, the smile on his face and the happy tears staining his face made that beep beep all worth it to Richie. 

“You done, boys?” Wentworth stole their attention back from staring into each other's eyes. 

“Is this the part where I get to kiss him?” 

“Almost.” Wentworth cleared his throat, addressing the room again. “And with the power vested in me by the state of New York. I now pronounce you, husband and husband.” 

As Richie kissed his husband for the first time, he swore, the world stood still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! At long last! The final chapter of Fade like Magazines!!! (Well, almost!) 
> 
> I'm so proud to have finally completed this work and I'm so excited to see what you all think of it. Coming up soon will be a short epilogue and theeeeen a sequel which I am SUPER excited about. 
> 
> I really hope you all enjoyed the story and will continue to read on in the next part. Thank you all so much for all your feedback over the last few months <3

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to r (killerqueer / sunflowerstozier ) for always being my beta. you're an absolute peach and i appreciate u so much


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